Esserru
by Echo Dancer
Summary: Ztar has come again for Archangel, only this time it's not just for a brief visit. Our two mutants are heading off to Ztar's throneworld. The Turzent/Commonwealth war is over and Ztar wants to live a more settled life. Warren is not happy.
1. Chapter 1

**Introduction to "Esserru"**

_**Updated message from the author:**_

_Welcome new readers to the second story in our saga. I had two very faithful reviewers during the posting of this story. Please don't be hesitant in submitting your own review. I absolutely LOVE hearing from readers – you are what make the writing worthwhile. I'm open to all comments – positive or not so positive. So please, make my day, and drop in a review!_

_**Original message to readers:**_

_Welcome to the world of Archangel and Ztar! This next chapter in the lives of our two main characters is named "Esserru," which in the make-believe language of Turzent means 'healer of souls.'_

_Archangel is primarily the original Marvel character in his post blue-skinned/steel-wing phase. Ztar is totally my creation – the ruler of a far-flung, interstellar empire that has grappled with his own mutation-fostered problems. I also own all the others characters, who now seem like family._

_I strongly encourage you to read "Sacrifice" first, then come back here. While you can read this story on its own, much will be lost without having that background. _

_**** I refer to this new story as an if-quel – not a sequel – because it presents a what-if scenario. In this case, a change to the ending of "Sacrifice." If you haven't read "Sacrifice," I'm not giving away how that story ended – you'll have to read it! ****_

_Enjoy the story and while you're at it, write a review. It's what we all hope for every time we click into FanFiction or our email. Thank you to the wonderful readers who added the original story, "Sacrifice," as one of their favorites and/or put me on their author watch. I hope this story also meets with your approval._

_BTW – the currently posted "Sacrifice" is actually a fully-revised version, so if you read the original posting, you might want to check out version two. Thank you so much to those who reviewed either version. You're the greatest!_

_Echo Dancer_

"_When you write from the soul, the pen moves itself."_

**###**

"_**Esserru"**_

**Prologue**

Warren's back and forth existence between life at the X-mansion and Ztar kept him in constant emotional flux. Every time he'd start to readjust to life on Earth, another visit would destroy much of that progress. Only a few hours with the Emperor, but the damage was done.

Xavier watched for three long years as Warren attempted to cope. The first many months were the easiest in retrospect. Warren hadn't allowed himself to become too involved with life at the mansion, preferring isolation and avoidance. By the second year, being snatched back into Ztar's world every few weeks or months was increasingly difficult. Try as he might, life on Earth kept sucking Warren back in. His reattachments to old friends only increased the trauma when Ztar came.

Charles knew that Warren sometimes doubted his sanity. Many times, he seemed merely to exist from one day to the next. Ztar's edict that Warren not be an active X-man ate at him. His fellow X-men were risking their lives for things important and he sat back at the mansion waiting for their safe return. And when the X-men talked of their battles and the villains and their defeats and victories, Warren would only listen, no longer a direct participant in that world. So left behind…

Warren had explained he had no stomach for managing his business and left it to the people who had adeptly performed that function the year he was on the Mi-Lartui. His involvement was limited to the monthly review of its financial status and projections.

Xavier was likely the only reason Warren remained sane. What he feared most for Warren was a slip into deep depression and detachment that would swallow his remaining spirit. Since active participation as a team member was not allowed, Xavier charged Warren with various logistics of running the estate and the X-men. Warren's business acuity was of enormous help to Xavier and he truly appreciated the assistance. Charles knew Warren needed to feel he was contributing in some way, though he also knew that Warren found the work hollow, but at least it occupied his mind.

True to his nature, Warren rarely shared his feelings. The only time Warren had broken down was their emotional conversation two weeks after Ztar returned him to Earth. No matter how many attempts Xavier made to get Warren to talk, his deepest emotions and turmoil remained buried under layers of repression and avoidance. At times, Charles became so frustrated with Warren's refusal to talk that he wanted to telepathically rip him open – expose all the horrors and trauma and force Warren to deal with them. Naturally, Charles did not.

So Charles continued to do what he could to help his friend. He prayed that Ztar would die, his empire fall, or he'd otherwise no longer come for the conjugal visits. Not in three years had Xavier found a way to free him from Ztar's clutches.

When Xavier pled his case to the Shi'ar, they had repeatedly stated that military assistance would not be forthcoming should Earth violate the Accord to free Warren. Why would they? The Accord was working exactly as intended. Earth was free and autonomous from the Turzent Empire with no expenditure of resources by the Shi'ar. A perfect solution.

Nothing changed in four years. Warren remained Ztar's exclusive possession. Earth remained in peril without Warren's cooperation. Warren existed with one foot on Earth and one with Ztar. And Xavier feared it very well could destroy his friend.

**Chapter One**

The shuttle landed on the grounds of the mansion. The routine of past three years repeated once again. The pilot opened the door, Warren entered without protest, and the shuttle darted into the heavens.

Ztar was waiting in his private shuttle bay when the craft docked. His body nearly trembled in anticipation of Archangel. Today was special, although he wouldn't share that with his Archangel quite yet.

The powerful telepath reached out his mind to Archangel before the door opened. Archangel's emotional state always saddened him, but he believed much of that was caused by his dual existence. Archangel needed to settle into one life – with Ztar.

Ztar approached the shuttle as the door slid open. Archangel paused in the entrance and locked eyes with the Emperor. Ztar was taken aback by the dullness of those eyes. It was worse than last time. He reached out his mind and enveloped Archangel with warm feelings and welcoming. As had been the case for the past couple years, Archangel did not resist.

Warren felt the mental projection and let it flow into his mind. It dulled the pain. So much easier…

"My Archangel! Come to me!" Happiness mixed with desire in Ztar's voice as he extended an arm toward the human.

Warren approached Ztar as he always did. As soon as he was within reach, Ztar was upon him for a need-filled kiss. Hands ran up and down Warren's body as Ztar's tongue probed deep. The greeting ritual rarely changed. Its routine allowed Warren to operate without thinking – he simply responded automatically. He opened his mouth to the Emperor and allowed the kiss. His hands moved to their assigned position behind Ztar's shoulders, as had been demanded so long ago. Now Warren simply followed the programming.

As always, this human caused Ztar's body to burn with desire – he could not imagine life without Archangel. The weeks between visits to Earth were always slow torture. Empty nights filled with memories and dreams of the amazing creature that was his.

Ztar ended the kiss and placed a hand under Archangel's chin to hold his face up toward Ztar's. He looked into the deep crystal-blue eyes and once again was under their spell. The Emperor loved their stunning blueness – like the intense blue of the skies where his Archangel loved to play.

"I have _so_ missed you!" Ztar told those eyes.

Warren did not respond, there was no need. Ztar rarely expected or demanded that Warren speak. He didn't want Warren for witty conversation – he wanted only one thing, his body. Actually, Warren preferred it that way. He had little desire to talk to this man who had done things to him the past fours years that Warren did his best to forget. Idle chitchat and lounging in bed were not part of the routine. Ztar's visits to Earth were usually pressed for time. Captain Yels did not want the Mi-Lartui and his Emperor to dally where the enemy could be lying in wait nearby. As a result, Ztar wasted no time in taking from Warren what he wanted and then leaving.

At least the brutality had ended long ago, but Ztar was still a demanding and not-so-gentle bedmate. Part of it was simply that Ztar was so much more physically powerful than Warren. When Ztar was in the throws of passion, he often did not check that strength, knowing Warren would heal quickly. Although Ztar had changed much since the beginning, the old Ztar was still there and would frequently seek to fulfill his desire without much regard for Warren.

"Tonight is special," Ztar announced, then waited.

After several seconds, Warren realized Ztar wanted a response. "Why?" he asked dully.

"That's for later. Right now, I want you!"

Warren watched as the heat grew in Ztar's eyes. It was always the same. Warren hated that simply the sight of him created such intense desire in the Turzent. He would trade his body without regret if it meant Ztar would lose interest.

Warren obediently went with Ztar to the Imperial deck of the Mi-Lartui. Once again in his chambers, Warren followed Ztar's programming. The men disrobed and crawled into the large, soft bed. Ztar wasted no time – he was upon Warren quickly and aggressively.

Ztar could barely contain himself. It was had nearly two Earth months since he had been with Archangel. That was far too long. The Emperor immediately positioned himself astride Archangel. Ztar always preferred being on top – he liked the dominant position. That was his nature.

Occasionally, though, he would lie beneath the human, but always when he wanted the wings spread wide to cocoon them in their white softness. He loved Archangel's whole body, but the wings were what made him so very special and such a unique delight to the senses.

Ztar always started with a demanding kiss. Archangel tasted sweet and he wanted more. His tongue deeply explored Archangel's mouth for a long time. His hands went to those beautiful wings and he caressed them and Archangel's body always responded with a shudder when Ztar touched them. He had learned in their first encounters just how sensitive the wings were and it thrilled him. Ztar pulled back to bite the sensual lips before plunging again into Archangel's mouth. Then he prompted Archangel to return the kiss.

Warren always waited for Ztar's mental nudge. It's just how things had evolved with the conjugal visits. First, submit to the kissing without resistance, then when Ztar had gotten as much as he wanted, it was Warren's turn. Warren had long ago given up refusing the prompt – it had gotten him nowhere.

Warren explored Ztar's mouth the same way he always did, without passion or caring. Unless, of course, Ztar wanted one of their 'special' encounters. Then Ztar suppressed all of Warren's aversions and inhibitions and supplanted them with lust, while skillfully building sexual heat in Warren's body. Then all bets were off and Warren responded with an intensity that scared and disgusted him. But that didn't seem to be where things were heading.

'Not tonight,' Ztar slipped into Archangel's mind, having 'heard' the thought about the direction of this encounter. Ztar broke the kiss and rose up to look down at Archangel, his hands on the human's chest.

Warren didn't ask why not, he just accepted what was. Sometimes Ztar wanted simple, uncomplicated sex. All physical, nothing mental. It always meant more pain for Warren, and he stiffened at the thought.

'Not that either, my Archangel,' came the reply.

Now Warren was confused. What did Ztar want? His programming didn't account for much in between the intense special encounters and the more painful, uncomplicated ones. Ztar was almost always on one end of the spectrum or the other. Rarely did he tread into the space between – sensual sex without mental intrusion.

Ztar read the confusion in Archangel's mind. He had anticipated it. Ztar knew himself and that his desires had swung between two extremes. The limited time he had with Archangel over the past three years had forced Ztar to stay with the two types of visits that brought him the most pleasure – tried and true. But this time he wanted to explore gradations of his desire, now that things were changing.

'I will lead, you will follow,' Ztar projected into Warren's mind.

Warren didn't know what was coming and it forced him to a more alert state. That wasn't what he wanted. Being on autopilot was better – he didn't have to be fully 'there,' which made detachment so much easier. Ztar was taking that from him and Warren was suddenly angry. He looked into Ztar's eyes as the Turzent smiled at him.

Ztar saw/felt the anger. 'Good!' he thought to himself. 'There is still a spark.'

Ztar ran his hands across the top of Archangel's wings, down the leading edge to the very tip of the longest feathers. Then Ztar lowered himself against Archangel's chest and nuzzled his neck, pushing his hands beneath the human to the point where the wings emerged from his back. Tucking his hand between Archangel's back and the wings, he gently massaged the underside of ridge of the wings, careful not to break delicate feathers.

Experience and past mental monitoring had taught Ztar exactly what to do and where to elicit a physical response. He used that knowledge now and was rewarded with a subtle tremor though Archangel. Ztar knew if he did it right, he could almost create an orgasm in the human simply by stimulating the wings.

Warren hated that his body responded against his will to Ztar's manipulations, but Ztar had had four years to learn exactly what it took to get him physically excited. As much as Warren detested it, Ztar's attention to his wings was pleasurable. He fought his body's enjoyment, tried to mentally override what Ztar was accomplishing, yet Ztar was arousing Warren quite effectively. Even more, Warren hated that the telepath knew exactly what he was experiencing. The mental invasion was almost more hurtful than the physical assault.

With skill developed from a vast array of bedmates and four years with the human, Ztar continued to stimulate Archangel in all the right ways. Ztar was pleased with Archangel's response, but he didn't let it build too far. Once he had Archangel where he wanted him, Ztar turned to satisfying his own needs. He explored Archangel with his whole body, wanting to melt into the magnificence of the human. Without letting Archangel's arousal fall, Ztar built his own – slowly, sensually.

Warren was lost in the sensations. His body didn't care who this man was on top of him – it only wanted more of what he was offering. Warren's mind was in a lust-filled fog – it was hard to think. Brief flashes of thought formed here and there. Was Ztar using mental control? No sense of that. I should fight this! Oh God – what is he doing? What am I doing?!

The world drew in around the pair, collapsing to encompass just the bed. Awareness was limited to sexual heat, lust, and passionate sensations. Ztar's mind whirled as he drank in Archangel's desire and layered it atop his own. The desire was blinding and took control.

Then the darkness that had been locked up for so long stirred. Not since the very first months with Archangel had Ztar completely lost control. Part of Ztar knew he should dip into that tranquil place in Archangel's mind to regain control as he had done many times in the past four years. Just enough to keep him from going over the edge, but he didn't really want to hold back. Ztar wanted – no _needed_ – an intense physical release this night.

'Just a little more,' he told himself. 'I'll allow myself that much. I can control it. I know how,' he assured himself as he consumed Archangel's mouth in a crushing kiss, allowing himself to slip a little closer to the edge.

With the stealth of a thief, the brutal Ztar of the past slipped in. 'Take what you want, what is yours by right!' it said. Ztar's control over his strength began to wane. The lure of unrestrained sex was seductive. He didn't want to push it away – it would feel so good to let go. 'It's been weeks – you deserve this. Don't hold back. Enjoy!' it whispered enticingly to him. Ztar loosened control of his strength a bit more, taking in the human with ever-increasing intensity. It felt so good!

Warren's mind registered that the sensual was quickly becoming extremely unpleasant. Ztar was headed to the pain-filled end of the spectrum once again in spite of what he'd implied only a short time ago.

The Turzent turned off the warning siren in his mind that was attempting to restore control. Ztar now wanted none of it. He needed this. Harder, deeper – he would rip from Archangel what he craved. Ztar would have this human completely without restraint.

Pain refocused him, bringing him down from the euphoria that had taken control. Warren had learned in those first weeks with Ztar that if he cried out, Ztar only became more aggressive. With clenched fists, Warren tried to endure silently, but Warren had been shaken out of his programming, and he wasn't sure he was willing to let Ztar have his way in spite of the potential risks.

Ztar felt Archangel suppress a cry when Ztar grabbed two handfuls of wing and squeezed hard. He wanted to hear Archangel groan, cry, something! He went after the human with ever more intensity. Still he remained silent, but was trembling beneath the Emperor. Ztar promised himself when he was ready to thrust into Archangel, he would do so painfully; maybe then the human would cry out! He would take Archangel ferociously. The human would heal.

Warren knew what this was building to and it wouldn't be pretty. Ztar was not restraining himself and the pain was becoming unbearable. The alien was out of control, something that hadn't happened in nearly three years. He made a decision – enough is enough! Despite the assault Ztar was waging on his body, Warren found that calm tranquility in his mind that had become his refuge. He called it up while Ztar continued to punish his body. Then when he felt Ztar was ready to enter him, Warren projected that calmness out toward Ztar – an offering that flowed over and through the Turzent. This had worked after Trapia, why not again?

Ztar was ready to take his Archangel when a gentle mental energy blanketed him, offering itself to him. An exchange of sorts – violent sexual release for peaceful euphoria. It startled him at first, until he recognized it as coming from Archangel. The human had done this once before – four years ago.

Ztar hesitated, eyes squeezed tightly closed – his body and mind conflicted. His body wanted Archangel now; his mind drawn to the soothing feelings caressing him. He couldn't choose! Ztar's body shuddered with turmoil. Then as it had four years ago after Trapia, Ztar's soul made the decision. It wanted what was being offered. Without Ztar's conscious control, he opened completely to the tranquility and deep peacefulness. It flowed through him to the very core of his being. And it was blissful. He forgot about the pain in his groin from needing release. His sexual desire evaporated to be replaced with a different kind of relief.

Warren watched Ztar and knew it was working. Ztar looked more relaxed with each passing second. He took the opportunity to sit up as Ztar sat to his side, kneeling in the bed, eyes closed. Warren's whole body throbbed and burned and the effort caused him to moan despite his best attempt to be silent. His healing factor was working, so he would just wait it out.

Archangel's moan and movement shifted Ztar out of his euphoric stupor. For the first few seconds after he opened his eyes and gazed at Archangel, he was happy. Then anger started to creep in around the edges again – how _dare_ Archangel manipulate him like that! This wasn't like Trapia when the hard work of bringing Archangel back from the brink of insanity was at stake. No, this was Archangel feeling bold enough to deny Ztar what he wanted.

Warren saw the anger flare almost instantaneously in the Emperor's dark eyes and it was immediately followed by the most agonizing pain in his head he ever experienced. He screamed, grabbed his head and curled into a tucked position. It was like molten lava pouring over his brain. He couldn't think or move – just scream. And then as suddenly as it started, it was over. He would have moved then, but the bed was whirling and he was intensely nauseous.

The worst of Ztar's rage began dissipating, having made his point. He did love Archangel and punishing him for seeking to quell his aggressive side wasn't something he enjoyed. But Archangel needed to be reminded of his place. Ztar was in charge – Archangel was simply to submit.

Archangel was curled at Ztar's knees, one wing laying over the Emperor's lap and the other dangling off the bed. Ztar knew the aftereffects of his mental bolt would leave the human incapacitated for at least a minute or two from a psychic pain his healing ability could not touch. Ztar stroked the wing across his lap and cooed. "You shouldn't have done that, my Archangel. I didn't want to hurt you, but you forgot the rules. I know you won't forget again…" The harshness of the words was in stark contrast to the softness of Ztar's voice.

Slowly, Warren sat up. His stomach was rolling less and the pain in his head was fading. He looked squarely at his tormentor. Ztar had never done that to him before. Not once in the four long years he had endured the Emperor. Another lesson learned in a long line of lessons in how to avoid the worst of the pain the Turzent was able to inflict. Warren couldn't wait to get back to the X-mansion, away from this nightmare that was his life at the hands of the Turzent, even if for a few weeks, but not before he spoke in his defense.

"You were out of control, Ztar. I just wanted to stop the pain, damn it!" With each word his anger grew.

Ztar contemplated for a moment. He liked that the spirit had been reawakened in Archangel. At least there was finally some life in those blue eyes. They danced with anger! But there is a fine line between having a fiery spirit, which Ztar wanted in Archangel, and defiance, which he did not want. Anger still gripped him at Archangel's boldness.

"You are correct, I was out of control. I wanted to be. That part of me needed to be sated. Now, it is still there – what should we do about that?"

"Why do I have to be the one that takes the abuse? Find another outlet!" Warren snapped back.

Ztar looked at Archangel inquisitively, his head cocked. Then he took Archangel's head in his hands. "My Archangel, that's why you're here! You _are_ my outlet." With the remnants of anger lingering, Ztar knew the words would cut deep. But then as soon as he spoke, he hated them. It jarred him loose from the inner rage and darkness that had controlled him once again despite all the apparent progress he'd made.

Ztar's words struck Warren hard. So blunt; so simply summing up his role. Warren fought back tears as anger transformed to despair.

The Emperor watched as the light faded from Archangel's eyes. Full realization of his actions and words hit Ztar.

'By the gods, what's _wrong_ with me?!' he raged at himself. No answer came. Fury rose again, but this time it was directly squarely at the Emperor himself. Why had he lost control? It had been over three years since that had happened. What triggered the cruelty now? This was not how he had planned his reunion with Archangel. He had so wanted this encounter to be the first step in a new life together. What had he _done_?!

Ztar released Archangel's face, brushing golden hair away from the human's eyes. The only good in this disaster was discovering the fighting spirit was still alive in Archangel. Hopefully, he hadn't just driven it back into hiding, but the look in the eyes of the human said differently. The life that had briefly danced in them was gone.

"Archangel, forgive me! I don't know what came over me. I didn't mean for this to happen. Please believe me." Even to Ztar, his words sounded hollow. There was no forgiving what he had done and his heart hurt. How could he possibly make this right?

Warren looked past Ztar to the windows above the bed, ignoring the meaningless apology. The familiar star streaks mesmerized him as he pushed down the humiliation. Better not to think too much; better just to be numb. Ztar couldn't hurt him as much when he was numb and disconnected. He watched as the stars streaked ripped open the blackness of space. Then his heart jumped. Star streaks? FTL mode?

Ztar knew immediately that Archangel had realized they were no longer orbiting Earth.

"We are heading to my homeworld," answering the question before Archangel asked.

"_What_?! Why?" Warren was stunned. What was happening? Disassociation was suddenly replaced by keen alertness.

"The war is over, my Archangel. We're going home." Home – the word sounded so good after so long away. The Emperor smiled at his companion. How much he wanted to start over with Archangel. Maybe at his palace he could manage it somehow.

"_No_!" Warren shoved Ztar back hard.

Ztar permitted Archangel to lash out, understanding that it was a reflex to the suddenness of the news. But he took hold of Archangel's wrists when he felt the human was going to jump out of the bed.

"Calm yourself, my Archangel," Ztar said softly. "You knew this would come eventually."

To Warren, knowing this was an eventual possibility and to have it actually materialize were two different things. Ripped away once again from his friends, his life, his world – too much to accept! Back in the tin can with nowhere to fly or escape. While life back on Earth had been difficult, at least there was respite between Ztar's visits. No more respite – no more freedom!

Through Ztar's telepathic monitoring, he knew every thought racing through Archangel's mind. He would deal with each fear as they arose.

"We will not be living in this tin can, my Archangel. Things are changing within my Empire. You and I will reside at my palace in the Ta'oc System. There the freedom of the skies will be yours whenever you wish. Sat'rey is like your Earth in many ways. My palace is comfortable – you will be happy there," he explained with as much encouragement as could be squeezed into the words.

Warren couldn't fathom Ztar actually believed that!

"We will build a new life for you. No longer will you be torn between your old life and life with me. One place to call home." Ztar hoped Archangel would be happy on Sat'rey, or at least relatively content.

"Does the Professor know?" Warren was suddenly concerned that his friends did not know what was happening.

"I told him telepathically while you were shuttling to the Mi-Lartui. He knows you will not be returning."

"You denied me the right to say good-bye?!" Warren was angry again. He swallowed hard as the realization hit he may never see his X-family again.

"I _spared_ you that pain, my Archangel."

God, did this alien not have a clue?! Warren was once again not given a choice. Ztar dictated every major aspect of his life. If it weren't for Ztar's tight grip on his wrists, Warren would be out of the bed and destroying inanimate objects in the room.

"You will come to appreciate the emotional turmoil I spared you."

"Maybe I _wanted_ that turmoil. Maybe it would have help bring closure! Now everything's left hanging…" Warren's voice threatened to break. Why couldn't Ztar had given him a choice?

Ztar admitted to himself that closure wasn't something he had contemplated, but what is done, is done. He decided he would concede that to Archangel.

"You're right, it may have helped. Or it may have made leaving even harder. I _do_ regret not offering you the choice." Yet another mistake he made. Things had gone poorly on every point and Ztar's heart was heavy with regret.

Warren registered the vain attempt to perhaps apologize a second time in a few minutes. He wouldn't read too much into it.

Ztar gently released Archangel's wrists when he no longer felt the human wanted to dart away. Sure enough, he remained seated in front of Ztar, digesting the change in his situation.

Warren thought quietly for awhile, suppressing the feelings of loss. He had grown to be an expert at repression. He feared that the deep pit where he had been tossing all the garbage in his life someday would overflow. But that hadn't happened yet. More garbage to toss in today and then slam the lid closed.

Ztar finally broke the silence. "We arrive at Sat'rey in five days. Sukja can answer all your questions about your new home, if you're interested. Or you can wait and be surprised!" Ztar added hopefully.

"How did the war end?" Warren wanted to know, changing the subject.

"A negotiated peace. We were just too closely matched and neither side could gain a significant advantage, as I had predicted. But when my scientists perfected the FTL advancement, the Commonwealth knew that balance would change, so they offered to begin peace talks." Ztar paused, looking Archangel in the eyes. "As I promised you, I settled the war through diplomacy. I kept my word to you, my Archangel. When peace was possible with fewer deaths, I took that opportunity."

Warren heard pride in Ztar's voice. Yet what options had Ztar really had? Pursue war that he may not win even with the FTL advancement he mentioned? Negotiations would seem a reasonable course of action. Warren would not be led to believe that the negotiated peace had anything to do with the promise to him.

"It _was_ one of the factors in my decision," Ztar replied in response to Warren's thought.

'God, I hate that he reads me constantly!' Warren barked in his mind, knowing the Emperor would hear that, too.

'I love your mind, my Archangel. It is quick and so…disciplined,' Ztar lightly telepathed his response. He reached out and ran his hand through Archangel's golden waves, slightly damp from sweat. 'I read you less often than you believe.'

Warren's fist went up instinctively to brush aside Ztar's hand, but he stopped in mid-motion when he realized what he was about to do. He didn't want to anger the Turzent again.

'A little privacy now and again would be appreciated!' Warren risked sending out the thought.

'Yes, but not right now. Your Professor trained your mind well.' Then aloud, "Charles Xavier is a wise man. I would have liked to have gotten to know him under different circumstances. Another powerful telepath – it could have been worthwhile…" An almost longing echoed in Ztar's voice.

As Warren rolled that idea over in his mind, he realized that this was one of the longest conversations he'd had with the Emperor over the past four years.

Ztar lifted Archangel's chin. "We can have many more!"

The Emperor nearly confessed to Archangel how much he longed for a close relationship beyond the bed. Sukja was as close as Ztar came to having a friend. Rulers rarely had the luxury of deep friendships. Everyone was kept at arms length to maintain objective control over all that was their empire. No room for emotional attachments that may cloud reason. But a life of few attachments was taking its toll. Ztar wanted more from life – more from Archangel. He almost told the human, but did not.

Warren's legs were uncomfortable, he needed to stretch out or stand up. The pain in his body had passed. He was healed from the bruising Ztar had inflicted.

Ztar reached out and put a hand behind Archangel's head. Looking into those crystalline-blue eyes reawakened his desire. He allowed it to build, remembering the pleasures from just a short while ago before he lost control.

"You may stretch out, my Archangel, but under me. Please, I'd like to try again. This time, I will remain in control." Ztar desperately wanted to start over with Archangel; to show his companion how much he _did_ care the only way he knew how – physically.

Warren groaned inside. He'd hoped that the evening was over, but Ztar wanted otherwise. Dutifully, Warren obeyed and endured another round with the Emperor. True to his word, the Turzent practiced restraint and the rest of the night was filled mostly with pleasurable sensations that Warren resisted in his mind, but allowed to be put upon his body once again for Earth's sake.

###

Ztar's anger resurfaced with a vengeance.

'Damn fool!' he labeled himself as he returned to his own chambers after the second attempt at sensuality with Archangel. The second time was more successful, but the first…

Ztar was a mystery onto himself. His anger flared at the most undesirable moments, like tonight. What went wrong, he wondered, crawling into his own bed. He'd had no intention of going down the aggressive path, let alone to lose all control! Was it the many long weeks without Archangel? Ztar didn't think so. He'd gone longer than that without the human. Something turned his passion into anger, but Ztar couldn't put a finger on it. All he remembered was an overwhelming desire to take what he wanted, without regard to the pain it would cause.

Then, to add insult to injury, he punished Archangel for snapping him out of it! And by the gods, the words that came next were cruel and demeaning. Ztar's behavior had undermined everything the move to Sat'rey was meant to accomplish.

He hadn't intended to hurt Archangel either physically or emotionally. His resurrected struggle with anger and the need to inflict pain for his own pleasure was disturbing. After three years, he thought he had conquered that part of him. That obviously was not the case. What had caused the relapse? The Emperor could find no apparent cause and it frustrated him. Was his effort the last three years to control the dark side of himself a failure?

Ztar wanted to change, but didn't know what else to do, especially when those impulses overrode his conscious desires. How could he regain control of himself permanently? No answers or brilliant insights came. Until they did, Ztar would be very caution with Archangel. As he fell into a fitful sleep, Ztar hoped that his relapse hadn't done too much damage. He feared, though, he had just sabotaged his own plans for a new life with Archangel.

###

When Warren woke the fifth morning after his return to the Mi-Lartui, a planet loomed outside his chamber windows. The Mi-Lartui always orbited so the planet was on the Emperor's side of the ship, and thus on Warren's side. Ztar had obviously left Warren at some point during the night, so he was alone this morning. Probably Ztar was readying for the return to his palace.

Warren sat and watched as the Mi-Lartui sat in a geocentric orbit above the planet. Ztar's homeworld was not as green and blue as Earth. More land mass, at least on the side of the planet Warren could see. No huge oceans or broad expanses of green. It appeared that Sat'rey was a drier world. Fewer clouds shrouded the planet than one would see around Earth.

'So this is home now,' he told himself sadly.

Another part of him was happy for the arrival – the part that needed the open skies. Five days of confinement was far from the worst he had endured, but he needed to get some flight time. Right now, it was more of a psychological need than physical, Warren admitted to himself. The solace and escape he found while flying were what his soul longed for to help deal with his new situation.

The past five days had been dull. Daytimes were spent refamiliarizing himself with Turzent, the official language of the Empire, getting reacquainted with Sukja as Sukja's schedule permitted, and doing nothing. Each night when Ztar came to him, he submitted as required. The aggressive and mean-spirited Ztar had not returned, as yet. Ztar had been as gentle as he was likely capable of given his powerful body.

Warren tried not to dwell on his future as that was too painful. The thought of no end to his servitude was an agony he chose not to inflict upon himself.

He climbed out of bed and got ready for the day, allowing himself to anticipate at least escaping the confines of the Mi-Lartui.

###

Sukja shut off the viewscreen to Archangel's room, satisfied that the human wasn't in crisis this morning and seemed to be adapting. Likely, the monitoring could end soon. Sukja was taking no chances that the human would react badly and fall into despair.

Over the past five days, Sukja had spent quite a bit of time with the returning human. It had been three years since he had gotten more than a glimpse of Archangel and he found he enjoyed getting reacquainted. He shared with Archangel details of the war, eventual peace, and how things had changed in the Empire after the peace treaty was enacted.

There was stark contrast between the human he remembered and the one that returned five days ago. This man was less inquisitive, less 'there' – almost as if much of the time he was on autopilot. Was it the result of being yanked away from his home once again, or was it the effects of four years of Ztar's control and intermittent attentions? Sukja concluded it was likely both.

Ztar had talked with Sukja about that very issue. Ztar had a very clear picture of what he wanted of Archangel in this next chapter of their life together. He wanted fire and passion, yet a deferral to Ztar's needs. He wanted meaningful conversation that brought out Archangel's intellect. He wanted a free spirit that played in the skies while Ztar watched from below. How could they maneuver that into being?

What Sukja knew, but Ztar hadn't expressed, was that in his heart, Ztar wanted Archangel to love him. He knew Ztar loved Archangel as best he could. Sukja also believed Ztar may never be capable of unconditional or self-sacrificing love. The Emperor had been through and done too much. He may never have been capable, not even as a young man. But he did love Archangel in his own way; of that, Sukja was certain.

But nurturing love in the human for the man that had forced himself upon him for four years; to go against Archangel's heterosexual nature was almost certainly an impossible task. Ztar could temporarily override objections and aversions through his powerful mental control, but once that control was withdrawn, nothing had changed within Archangel. Sukja saw no way that Ztar could have what he ultimately desired – Archangel's love.

The best Sukja could imagine would be mimicry of love – condition Archangel such that he responded to Ztar as if he loved the Emperor. In essence, they would need to program Archangel to interact with the Emperor in a particular way automatically. That would require an intense, concerted effort from both Ztar and Sukja. As difficult would be keeping the human's spirit alive despite the programming. And they would need to program Archangel without the human realizing what was happening. No, even mimicry would likely be impossible.

Ztar wanted a lot and Sukja wasn't sure he could deliver. If he admitted it to himself, he wasn't sure he wanted to. Sukja liked Archangel and it pained him greatly how the Emperor had treated the brave, self-sacrificing human in the past. On many levels, this would be the biggest challenge of Sukja's time as the Emperor's attendant.

###

Warren watched out the shuttle window as the craft approached the palace. He was able to see quite a bit of the Imperial complex as they descended. Nestled in the middle of a large valley, the sprawling complex and manicured grounds were in stark contrast to the natural countryside surrounding it. A single, large building dominated the cluster of buildings and it could only be the palace. Large patios flanked opposite sides of the palace, one overlooking manicured gardens and the other encompassing a long reflecting pool. Other buildings sat around the periphery of manicured lawns and gardens with pathways winding between.

The palace was constructed of what looked like a cream-colored stone and was lined with large windows with numerous balconies hanging from the second floor. It reminded Warren of some of the elegant French palaces of old, but with a definite alien touch to the architecture. The ornamentation was sleeker and less fussy than Earth's palaces, almost Asian in feel.

The shuttle settled down on a landing pad next to the palace. The pilot opened the shuttle door as he was shutting down the craft's systems. Ztar rose immediately and looked at Archangel. Sukja stood and waited for Ztar to exit.

Warren finally stood and Ztar placed a hand on his upper arm. "I want you to get settled in before there are any excursions into the air. Sukja will show you to your chambers and explain the house rules. I have business to attend to, but we'll have dinner together tonight – the three of us," Ztar ordered, smiling.

Warren was taken off-guard. Dinner with Ztar? That never had happened on board the Mi-Lartui.

'There are many things we never did on board ship that we'll do together here, my Archangel. This is home!'

The words slipped gently into Warren's mind and were laced with affection. He stiffened against them.

Sukja and Warren exited the shuttle after Ztar and followed him into the palace where they parted company from the Emperor. Warren stopped and took in the sight.

The palace was magnificent! Once they had come through the doors, the entrance gave way to a vast open space. The ceiling had to be 30 feet high. Warren couldn't help but be impressed. Sunlight danced through crystal windows and filled the space. The walls seemed to shimmer softly in a subtle, golden tone. Artwork was tastefully scattered throughout. Furnishings were understated and positioned at various points around the room. There was just the right amount of ornate carvings on the walls and ceiling – nothing overdone. The floor gleamed and reminded Warren of the most expensive Italian marble he had ever seen. A grand staircase floated at the far end rising up to a balcony that spanned the width of the room.

Yep, no visitor would doubt this was an Imperial residence. Built to impress!

Sukja watched Archangel's reaction closely. He knew Archangel was a person of wealth on his home planet, but he did seem impressed with Ztar's palace so far.

"This is the grand reception. We've held many Imperial events here – the room is filled with good memories for me!" he told the human. Sukja hoped to instill the sense that this was a home, not just a showplace.

"It certainly leaves an impression," Warren admitted.

"Let's go up to your chambers. Later, you can explore all you wish either on your own or I'd be happy to guide you. There are very few areas off limits to you. This is now your home."

A subtle wing flick escaped his control. Warren had caught the maneuverings Sukja was plying and he wasn't happy about it. For now, he'd just play along.

Sukja noticed the flick – he had come to know that telltale sign of unease or suspicion. As he had done during the first year Archangel was on the Mi-Lartui, Sukja did not let on he understood that body signal.

'Got to be more careful,' Sukja warned himself. He'd back off on the 'you're home now' tone.

Sukja led Warren up the stairs, across the left side of the balcony to wide, windowed hall to the right that ran down the side of the palace. Again, the ceilings were high, but nothing like the grand reception. Still, high and wide enough that Warren could literally fly down the hall without problem. He was a superb tight-space flier from years of training and navigating a hall this size would be easy.

It was quite a walk to the private section of the palace.

"This end of the palace is not open to guests or visitors," Sukja explained. "Ztar chambers adjoin yours as on the Mi-Lartui. Mine are further down the hallway."

Warren saw the same control for the doors as were on the ship. He placed his hand over the panel and the door silently opened. The two men entered and the door slid closed behind them. The first thing Warren noticed was the room was twice as large as his Mi-Lartui chambers. The next thing he saw was the large, French-style doors and balcony.

He walked directly over, swung one of the doors open, and stepped out. The balcony overlooked the gardens – they were filled with colors and pattern. The scent floating up was gentle and sweet. The breeze ruffled Warren's hair and feathers. After five days, he was ready to fly, but Ztar said not yet and he wouldn't risk antagonizing the Emperor today. He extended his wings slightly to catch more of the warm breeze before turning back toward the room.

Sukja did not follow. He let Archangel take in his gateway to the sky alone. Ztar was so pleased with this arrangement. He had ordered the doorway and balcony expanded just for Archangel. The human was to have free access to the skies whenever he wanted. It was Ztar's attempt to make up for those months on the Mi-Lartui when Archangel nearly went insane from confinement that resulted from the outbreak of war. Sukja would say nothing to Archangel. No attempt to manipulate, which was likely the best manipulation of all.

Warren had expected Sukja to say something about the balcony and accommodating his needs, or whatever, but the alien said nothing. Warren relaxed a bit. Perhaps he'd read too much into the earlier comment.

"I'm going to let you investigate the rest of your room without me hovering," Sukja said with a smile. "I've got several tasks to complete for Ztar before lunch. There is a layout of the palace available through the visitor's information area on the computer. You'll figure it out. Or just go exploring on your own. I'll join you for lunch today. Meet back here at 15.0 – it's 14.0 now. In the meantime, comm me if you need anything," Sukja instructed as he headed for the exit. Then he turned back to the human. "One more thing, for security's sake, do not fly past the Imperial Valley where the palace sits. Consider yourself settled in." Smiling, Sukja left Archangel's chambers.

Warren was quick to remember Ztar's instructions about getting settled in first.

"Hah!" Warren exclaimed out loud and headed out the balcony into the air. And his soul sang with joy.

Far below in his imperial office, Ztar's empathic connection told him his beautiful Archangel was is the sky and he smiled.

###

Over lunch, Sukja explained the routines and rules of the palace and generally how the palace operated. Staff was divided into two main bodies – Imperial and palace. Imperial staff included Sukja, Archangel, and Ztar's top advisors, his inner circle so to speak. Palace staff was everyone else that worked at the residence.

Security was strictly enforced. Ztar had a curfew for all Imperial and palace staff, unless they were attending to Imperial business. Ztar did not want anyone out in the late hours away from the palace. In addition, all staff was closely monitored as to any outside communications for security reasons. High ranking palace staff and all Imperial staff never traveled alone – always with a guard or guards.

Rules that applied specifically to Warren included not leaving the palace for flights without letting someone know or placing that information in his computer log. He was limited to an area defined as the valley in which the palace sat, but that valley was large. From his earlier excursion, Warren estimated it was roughly 50 miles across in all directions. Warren could live with that.

Daily routines played out according to a schedule. Mealtimes were set, but only for palace staff. Imperial staff could comm the kitchen staff and they'd provide whatever, wherever, whenever it was desired. Imperial staff could even go down to the kitchen and grab a late night snack, if wished.

Housekeeping took care of all those related chores, so Imperial staff needn't lift a finger in that regard. Other palace staff was available to run errands or perform whatever function was required.

"So to sum it up, Imperial staff is a pampered lot," Warren noted to Sukja after finishing his Turzent-equivalent of a Monte Cristo sandwich.

"Yes, we are. Welcome to life as part of the royal court," Sukja agreed wholeheartedly and took a bit of sandwich before continuing. "After so many years in space with the Emperor, I'm overjoyed that we're settling back here. This is the one change post-war that I personally welcome most. The Mi-Lartui is nice, but this," he waved broadly with his arm, "is home." Sukja wiped his face with his napkin and pushed away from the table on the outdoor patio where they dined.

"Why is it that Ztar is settling down here now?" Warren eyed Sukja over his second glass of Dison, a sweet, fiery liqueur he'd grown quite fond of and had actually missed on Earth.

'Oh, that's a loaded question!' thought Sukja. Ztar had told Sukja in no uncertain terms the biggest reason was Archangel. After all, he could manage his Empire just as easily from the Mi-Lartui as from the palace, maybe better. But Sukja knew Archangel would suspect manipulation if he told him. Best to leave that part of the reasoning unsaid.

"He's been traveling for four years because of the war. Our Empire is now more secure than ever with the concessions made by the Commonwealth. The years have been hard on the Emperor and he's not getting any younger. I think he wants to ease back a little."

Warren nodded. Seemed reasonable. At least Sukja didn't feed him any bullshit about Ztar wanting a better place for him. That's what Warren had half expected Sukja to say, but perhaps Sukja didn't say it for that very reason. 'Stop it, Worthington,' he ordered himself. 'You'll get caught in circular reasoning.'

Warren drank the last of his Dison. The sun was at Warren's back and it felt good. The Dison and the sun together made him almost dreamy. He closed his eyes briefly and spread his wings a little wider to catch more of the solar warmth. When he opened his eyes, Sukja was watching him intently.

"You can warm yourself in the sun quite effectively, I take it."

Sukja had never made much mention before about Warren's wings or any of his more avian tendencies and the comment took him by surprise.

"The white feathers reflect a lot of the heat, but yes I can warm myself," he answered simply.

Sukja leaned back toward the table, resting his arms on the edge. "What's it like to fly?"

Warren wasn't sure he wanted to answer. It seemed almost too personal coming from someone he didn't consider a friend. But the sun, the Dison, and that pleasantly full feeling after a good meal lulled him into responding.

"Euphoric. That's the best overall word. Or maybe euphoric freedom. Like you leave everything behind on the ground and are wild and free, at least for a while. That's the best I can do to describe it, Sukja."

Or at least as far as Warren was willing to go. He could have said so much more. Like how the wind and the sky made his soul sing. How his mind expanded out when he was riding the currents and, as silly as it sounded, he felt he could actually merge with the winds. How intimate and sensual the experience of flight was for him. But that was too private. He had willingly shared those deep feelings with only two people in his life.

Sadly, Ztar probably knew those feelings from his telepathic connection. Anger flared briefly in Warren at the thought, but he let it go just as quickly. Today was not a day he wanted to spoil with anger. So far this day had been unexpectedly pleasant. Or was that the Dison talking?

"Sounds wonderful!" Sukja said, finishing his own Dison with a final gulp. He smiled at the human. "Now it's time for me to get back to my duties. You, on the other hand, lead a life of leisure and will need to find something to occupy your time."

Warren considered that for a moment. "I'd like to practice my Turzent," Warren said in Turzent. "Can the translator be turned off?"

Sukja raised his eyebrows. "You said that like a native! I had no idea you had come so far in your lessons, especially being away for three years."

"I brushed up on it the past five days. Had nothing else to do to take my mind off things…"

Sukja noted the sadness in Archangel's voice. "By all means then. Go to the communication office in the lower level. Ciltez will take care of that for you. Ask for a control unit so you can turn the translators on and off as you need."

Sukja knew Ztar would be pleased with this step. Another way in which Archangel was adapting.

###

Ciltez was very helpful indeed, explaining exactly how to control the embedded translator with the small remote. It had various settings, which the language tutorial had never mentioned. You could turn off the translator completely or have it translate only key words as a preparatory step.

Pleased with himself, Warren headed back to his chambers, playing with the control unit when he passed people talking in the halls. 'Guys and gadgets,' he mused. 'Nothing beats a new remote!'

That afternoon, Warren headed out for another flight. He had even remembered to enter into his log that he was out. Warren was careful to stay within the prescribed boundaries. No sense risking anything undesirable, even though he wasn't sure what that might be. The 50-mile diameter valley gave him plenty of freedom, so it really didn't matter.

When he alighted back on his balcony, his thoughts turned to the night's meal – with Ztar. Luckily, Sukja would be there. Warren was not naïve and was still wary of Sukja's manipulation, but at least there would be another dining partner to carry the conversation. For the life of him, Warren couldn't think what he'd talk to the Emperor about during a meal.

The man that had raped him innumerable times over the past four years wanted to have a civilized dinner? It was revolting! Ztar should keep things the way they were. No talk, just the sex and be done with it.

'You're getting yourself all worked up,' Warren chastised himself. 'Just go with the flow. If nothing else, consider it an opportunity to practice your Turzent.'

Yet Warren couldn't help himself. The more he thought about dinner, the angrier he got. Having pleasant dinner conversation with the man would be intolerable. He found himself pacing his chambers starting a half hour before the appointed time. Sukja said he'd stop by and they'd go to Ztar chambers together. Another new intrusion into his life. In all the time Warren spent on the Mi-Lartui, he had never once set foot in Ztar's chambers, and he had no desire to do so now. It was the lair of the monster and not a place he wanted to spend any time.

As much as he detested the idea, with Earth's continued safety in Warren's hands, he had no choice. Ztar had made it very clear his first day back on the Mi-Lartui that the Turzent-Earth Accord was still in effect. Warren was still indentured to Ztar and his cooperation was all that stood between Earth's freedom and subjugation.

God, he hated the man!

When Archangel opened his chamber door, Sukja knew the human was worked up. His whole body screamed anger. Wings spend slightly wider than normal, agitated flicks of those wings, pacing, and a scowl that couldn't be more obvious. Sukja needed to defuse the human before they went to the Emperor's chambers. Sukja had anticipated this and it was exactly why he told Archangel they'd join Ztar together. But before Sukja could say a word, Archangel was on him.

"_Why_ does Ztar want to have dinner? This is ridiculous! Sukja, you know what he's done to me. Explain what he hopes to gain by this- this mockery?" Archangel's eyes flashed.

Sukja had already carefully crafted his response to the question should it be asked. This would be one of his most demanding performances. He hoped he could pull it off and it had the right affect on the human.

Sukja sighed and looked Archangel in the eyes. "To be honest, Archangel, I'm not sure. I don't know if he wants to make you uncomfortable, has delusions of a new life for the two of you, or wants to make amends. I just don't know. What I do understand is that this will be difficult for you. That's why I implored Ztar to let me join you both for dinner. Let me take the lead with the conversation – I'm good at that." Sukja paused and shook his head. "I wish I knew what was going on in Ztar's head, but he's the telepath, not me. On this matter, he did not share much of his thoughts."

Warren watched the Turzent with great intensity, looking for any outward signs of dishonesty in body language, tonal infliction, or words. He just wasn't certain on this one. Sukja seemed to be speaking truthfully, but then again…

"I will have dinner with Ztar because I have to. But don't expect too much. He's a brute and a rapist – I cannot have pleasant dinner conversation with the man." Warren was direct and blunt. Let Sukja chew on that for awhile!

Sukja nodded. "Let's just get through dinner."

Warren would have agreed with that, but dinner wouldn't be the end of it for Warren. Ztar would have several more hours alone with Warren afterward and he dreaded it. What had been a fairly pleasant day was going to hell.

The pair strode to Ztar's chambers and entered when prompted. Warren looked around and spied Ztar near the dining table. He was in the luxurious loungewear that he preferred after hours. The table was set and food spread out. Glasses were filled with something that wasn't Dison judging by the color.

Ztar chambers were larger than Warren's, but the layout was surprisingly similar. Just a notch up in every respect. Night had fallen at some point during the past half hour. The doors to Ztar's large balcony were open and the curtains gently swayed in the breeze. Softly lighting illuminated the balcony. It was a warm Sat'rey night.

"Come and sit," Ztar commanded. Sukja and Archangel obeyed.

As the three settled in at the table, Ztar took his glass and spoke. "I learned about an Earth custom called a toast," he announced. "I would like us to toast a new life on Sat'rey."

Warren burned with anger. This was absurdly surreal, but he would play it out. Warren raised his glass as did Sukja.

"To a new life!" Sukja added and they clink glasses.

Warren sniffed the liquid – definitely alcoholic. Then he took a wary sip – strong! It looked like wine, but tasted and burned like hard liquor. He didn't care for it and set it down quickly.

True to his word, Sukja started talking as the food was passed around. He began with stories about life on Sat'rey – the people, customs, beliefs, and so on. Ztar added to and augmented Sukja's descriptions. Warren listened and took another drink of the alcohol. Maybe it would dull the extreme discomfort he was feeling. At least the food was good. Warren focused intensely on his food while Sukja's voice droned in the background. Another sip of alcohol…

"Do you like the Raimami?" Ztar asked when Warren took his sip.

It took Warren a second to realize Ztar was addressing him.

"The drink?"

"Yes. It's called Raimami – a Ta'oc specialty." Ztar took another drink himself.

"Has a kick," Warren replied without emotion.

"That it does. But it compliments this meal and so I chose it." Ztar explained.

'Bully for you!' Warren jabbed mentally, hoping Ztar picked up the thought. If he did, Ztar did not acknowledge.

There was silence for an uncomfortably long time. Sukja stepped in.

"Perhaps it's time for dessert!"

Warren took another drink of the Raimami. Maybe he could get drunk and make it through this evening. It took a lot to get him drunk. His healing factor saw to that – burned the alcohol out of his system quickly. But if he drank enough quickly enough, he could manage it.

Each drink of Raimami went down easier than the one before. Warren wasn't the only one enjoying the beverage. Sukja and Ztar's glasses were equally drawn down.

As the three ate dessert, Sukja continued his storytelling, this time about the area surrounding the palace. It wasn't until then that Warren recalled he had wanted to turn off the translator. Reaching into his pocket, he switched the device off.

The voice negating function of the translator snapped off and Sukja's voice came through naturally, no longer through the translators embedded in Warren's ear canals. It sounded much the same as the translated voice, but not precisely.

Warren listened attentively now. Some words he missed, but most he understood. He was pleased with himself.

Sukja and Ztar noticed Archangel's increased attention. The Emperor brushed Archangel's mind and discovered why. He informed Sukja and the attendant smiled. Ztar was pleased with this! But they wouldn't spoil Archangel's experiment – they pretended they hadn't notice.

The attendant began to share funny stories about life in the palace. About uppity guests and difficult staff and fussy chefs. Warren only listened, trying to figure out the meaning of words he missed. Repeating new words in his mind.

And while Sukja was telling tales, the glasses were refilled with Raimami by Ztar. By half way through the second glass, it was apparent that Sukja was under the influence. No mutant healing factor to his rescue! But Ztar was large enough that it would take much more Raimami to affect him.

Warren listened as Sukja's words began to blend together and their crisp delivery slipped away a bit.

Ztar gently nudged Archangel mentally to drink more. Gently enough that Archangel was unaware it was Ztar's prompting and not his own decision. At the same time, Ztar nudged Sukja to slow down his consumption to a crawl. Ztar continued drinking, liking the buzz that was finally taking hold of him. It had been a long time since he allowed himself that indulgence.

Archangel finished his second glass and Ztar filled two glasses with more Raimami. Sukja's glass remained half empty.

Warren felt his intoxication strengthen, but he didn't care. It helped the evening pass with less discomfort. Now Sukja's stories were beginning to bring a smile to Warren's face.

Sukja withheld the best stories for this point in the evening. A master storyteller, he crafted his tales to draw the listener in, to build empathy for the characters in the story, and then send the listener on a journey with those characters. These last stories were of humorous situations and people and they transcended culture and species.

The Raimami was working its intoxicating magic on Warren and Ztar alike while Sukja worked his magic with words. And at the end of Sukja's funniest story, Warren laughed.

It was a wonderful thing to hear, Sukja thought. Not in the entire year Archangel was on the Mi-Lartui did Sukja see more than a handful of true smiles on the human. And now he had laughed.

'Well done, Sukja!' came the Emperor's voice in his head.

'We should not make issue of it. Just let it be,' Sukja warned the Emperor.

'Agreed.'

With the story at its end, Sukja stood. "It is time for me to return to my chambers. The Raimami will leave me with a nasty headache in the morning if I don't! Good night, my Emperor, Archangel." And he was gone.

Warren swallowed hard. He knew what was next.

Ztar wasn't sure whether to spend the night with Archangel or take a pass. Perhaps a pass would be best this evening. A sign to Archangel that Ztar meant what he said about a new life – a peace offering.

"Help me clear the table, Archangel," Ztar commanded. "I don't like things sitting out all night and housekeeping is done for the night."

It was back to being surreal, as Warren dutifully helped Ztar with taking the dishes to the kitchen area and putting leftovers in the refrigerated compartments. They worked in silence.

"I'm going to retire, Archangel. You're free to go," Ztar said when they had finished.

Warren looked at the Emperor with shock. This was not what he had expected, but he'd take it – gladly! Warren escaped Ztar's chambers without even as much as a goodnight kiss – would wonders never cease.

Warren grimaced, though, when the painful memory of his first night back aboard the Mi Lartui resurfaced briefly. Even with the Raimami in his system, Warren was suspicious about why he got off so easily that evening, but those thoughts would keep until tomorrow. As he was changing into his pajama bottoms it hit him. There was no window seat in his chambers to use as an alternate bed. No sofa either in the sitting area.

'Shit! How could I have missed that?!' Warren was angry at himself. Unless he slept on the floor or in a chair, he would be forced to sleep on his own in the bed where Ztar would likely do as he pleased. 'Damn! Damn!'

Warren took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The bed wasn't yet violated. Tonight he could still sleep there. Tomorrow he could work on alternatives. Right now, he needed sleep. It had been an emotionally tiring day and the alcohol left in his system was making him even sleepier. He crawled into bed and he sank into its incredible softness. Sleep came almost instantly.

Ztar monitored Archangel telepathically until the human was asleep. Yes, there were certain aspects of Archangel's chambers that he had not wanted replicated in the palace. The window seat being number one. Archangel needed to accept Ztar's presence in his bed whether or not Ztar was physically there at the moment. No more escaping to the window seat.

Ztar was pleased with how the evening had unfolded. But Archangel's laughter brought him the most happiness by far. The laugh was musical, while also alluring and sensual – not surprising. Everything about the human was. And the radiance of his smile was a thing of beauty. Ztar hoped to see that more and more in the coming months.

When Ztar drifted to sleep, he was smiling.

###

Ztar had learned much about the Shi'ar when he had manipulated away control of Earth for Archangel. He had been more than intrigued with their form of Imperial government. A blend of Imperial power and democratic rule. In the mind of the Shi'ar Empress Lilandra, he found many benefits of that blended form of government. She was freed from much of the pressures of running her vast empire that Ztar dealt with. The Empress played more of an advisory role and that distance allowed her a more detached perspective, which in turn resulted in more visionary decisions. Very tempting indeed!

Ztar was also impressed with the Empress herself. She was quiet strength embodied, able to make the tough choices while retaining her compassion. While the Empress remained the ultimate decision-making authority in most things, she used that power only when absolutely necessary. Through his mental scans, he found Lilandra had the wisdom to allow others to make mistakes, but was there to help make things right if they could not rectify matters on their own.

He'd spent many hours since the war ended devising a similar form of government for his Empire. Ztar was very careful to double- and triple-protect his right as ultimate ruler and to secure that position for whomever would be his named successor. Once the initial idea was sketched out, he brought in his inner circle. Ztar was pleased that they genuinely approved of the plan for the most part. Together, they were working on the broader concepts before the draft constitution would go to the law writers for the fine detail.

General Gtar-Cro was particularly supportive. Gtar-Cro's support was not driven by thoughts of personal gain, but by what he thought would be a major step toward strengthening the Empire at a fundamental level. "A solid, stable foundation on which to build a lasting Empire," the General had described the conceptual government. "Secure that foundation now and there's no telling where the Empire might go!" Gtar-Cro had told Ztar with enthusiasm. Fewer resources required to enforce Imperial rule on the less cooperative systems meant more resources for other areas, such as exploration, expansion, and research.

Ztar also looked to The Systems Commonwealth for ideas. The Commonwealth was mostly a democracy, but had its problems. Too many fragments that were difficult to organize effectively. He believed that fragmentation played a major role in the Commonwealth deciding to ask for peace talks. Too little control is as bad as too much, he concluded.

Beyond his inner circle, not everyone would be pleased with the proposed changes. Those whose positions and power would be lessened or otherwise abolished may not be as enthusiastic. Ztar could make many enemies, but he would deal with that. Moving his Empire toward something better, more sustainable after his death was worth the risk.

This morning, he was meeting with his inner circle at the palace. Aside from the initial meeting several weeks ago where Ztar announced his vision, much of their work had been done independently, each assigned their areas of responsibility. Now it was time to meet face-to-face for progress reports and to exchange thoughts and concerns.

Ztar was excited. He was building something new and it stimulated his mind and creative energies.

###

Sukja was up quite early to administer the last minute details for Ztar's meeting with his inner circle. These were exciting times! He wholeheartedly supported where Ztar was leading his Empire.

Sukja's planet, Ozjaer, had been one of the systems brought into the Ta'oc Worlds territory long before Ztar and Sukja were born. It wasn't by choice. Many Ozjaerians died at the hands of the Ta'oc military in their vain attempt to resist the expansionistic Turzents. By the time Sukja was old enough to understand his world's history, his planet had been subjugated for two generations.

When Ztar came into power, strict control by the Ta'oc Worlds Empire was loosened. Ozjaer benefited from Ztar's view that any world that cooperated with his new Empire would have more freedoms than those that resisted. As Ozjaer complied with Ztar's rule, they regained some freedoms long ago lost. After two generations of initially harsh and then later disinterested Ta'oc rule, Ztar was viewed as a good change.

Sukja came to believe that Emperor Ztar was a mixed blessing. Complete autonomy was never an option under the Turzent Empire, but joint management of Ozjaer's affairs was a definite step in the right direction. When Sukja came into Imperial service years ago, he found he actually admired the man that had proclaimed himself Emperor. Ztar was far from a saint and his dark side was frightening, but Sukja saw the good in Ztar and he supported and encouraged that part of the Emperor at every opportunity.

He had watched Ztar change ever so gradually for the better over the past few years. Much of that change simply came from Ztar maturing and growing wiser with age. Some change Sukja allowed himself to take credit for. And in the past four years, additional changes had to do with Archangel. Most, but not all, of Ztar's inner anger had been somehow dispelled by the human. Without that fueling the need for tight control, Ztar became able to start letting go. Now Sukja may live to see a restoration of freedoms long lost, and he was thrilled. All the pieces where coming together at the right time to make the impossible possible.

Sukja readied the conference room with all the materials and refreshments needed for the long meeting ahead. If the meeting ran over the mid-day meal, which it likely would, the kitchen had their orders for food. Sukja knew the food preferences for each person in attendance today – it was part of his job.

From military intelligence was General Gtar-Cro. His favorite was a Turzent classic called Zwen – a hearty meal for the robust General. Imperial Planetary Liaison Myrundra preferred lighter fare and she often requested a simple mix of vegetables and a grain. General Rehsaw of military command liked just about anything from his homeworld, so Sukja just rotated the selection. The Imperial coffers were watched over by Finance Minister Yramma e'Troz, a wizard with numbers – he liked food, and it showed! Put just about anything in front of Yramma and it would be gone in short order. The attendant chose a meal from Sukja's own world, which was one of his personal favorites and believed e'Troz would equally enjoy it. And finally, Imperial Legal Advisor Stjarmas'de favored the cuisine of his homeworld in the Jandur System and Sukja chose what he knew was one of the counselor's favorites.

Once the room and other details were complete, Sukja stopped by Archangel's chambers to check on the human. He had no idea if Ztar had been with Archangel last night or not, but best to assume he had and to touch base to ensure all was well this morning.

Archangel was an early riser also so when Sukja pressed the comm, he likely wasn't waking the human. But when Archangel didn't answer, he became nervous. Archangel had ignored Sukja's comms in the past when very upset. Or was he simply in the bathroom? A quick jaunt back to his quarters for a peek into Archangel's chambers through the viewscreen showed the rooms empty. However, the balcony door was slightly ajar. Sukja surmised Archangel was out for a morning flight.

###

Warren loved early mornings! He had always been a morning person – part of his avian nature? Lots of people are early risers. He didn't know and it really didn't matter. What he did know is that he enjoyed riding the morning thermals. The air warming with the sun created some of the best thermals beyond mountainous terrain and he enjoyed them with a passion.

Sat'rey's gravity and air density mimicked Earth's and Warren was extremely comfortable in its skies. But the terrain and climate here were distinctly more arid than Warren preferred. It reminded him of America's southwest, although the vegetation was decidedly unearth-like.

The long light waves of dawn made the sky glow. Multi-colored clouds drifted lazily overhead and the world below was washed with golden light and long shadows. The blue of Sat'rey's early morning sky was different that Earth's – more aqua blue. It was actually quite beautiful.

Warren expanded his senses out beyond his body and he drank in the newest of the planet. Each world Ztar had taken him to during his year on the Mi-Lartui offered a different sensory experience. With all that was painful and horrifying during that year, the feel of new worlds was something that brought Warren enjoyment. Yesterday's excursions were for physical and emotional release – this morning was for the senses. Circling lazily on an updraft, spiraling ever higher, Warren left all his negative feelings far below. His body embraced this new world, drinking in whatever it chose to share with him. He tingled with the sensations flowing through him. This was his element and he merged with it.

Far below, Ztar stopped in his tracks – Archangel was airborne. He let his empathic senses take in Archangel's emotions and sensations. He loved the feelings – they made him almost drunk. What must it be like to actually fly like his Archangel? Empathic and telepathic voyeurism could only provide a secondhand experience. The real thing must be intoxicating. Ztar smiled at Archangel's joy as continued preparing for his visitors.

###

Ztar approached the landing pad as the first of the shuttles deposited its passenger. For security reasons, Ztar's inner circle never stayed overnight at the palace, at least not as a group. Best that each remain in their cruiser and shuttle to the surface just prior to the meeting.

Gtar-Cro was the first to arrive, as typical. Ztar knew he liked arriving slightly ahead of time. It gave them an opportunity to talk alone for a few minutes. But this morning, Liaison Myrundra's shuttle was right behind Gtar-Cro's, so there was no time for private discussions. Over the next several minutes, the rest of Ztar's top five were deposited at the palace.

Once settled into the conference room, Ztar asked each to report the status of their assigned tasks. The meeting continued into the late morning as the group migrated from reporting on various aspects of their new form of government to in-depth debate on key points of the constitution.

Sukja saw the hours slip by and informed the kitchen that lunch would indeed be required. Although the kitchen would have prepared the food regardless, it would not serve lunch without direct orders from Sukja.

The meeting lasted well into the afternoon, but it was worthwhile. The Emperor was impressed with the group's progress. Another round of discussions and they may be ready to let the law writers draft the first documents. Ztar saw his advisors off and returned to his chambers, feeling satisfied and pleased with himself.

Then his thoughts turned to Archangel. He hoped things would progress as well with the human as with the formation of his new government. Ztar wanted to share his excitement with Archangel. Reaching his mind out, he found the human on his balcony, studying something on his portable computer interface, or PI as it was referred to.

Ztar chimed Archangel's chambers. His hands were moist – Ztar was actually nervous! Last night, Sukja was there and had acted as an intermediary, but now Ztar was on his own. He wanted so much from the human and feared taking a misstep like the first night Archangel was back on his cruiser. Ztar winced at the memory. He hated how he had behaved that night.

When Warren opened the door, he was startled. Rarely did the Emperor use anything but his personal entrance to Warren's chambers on the Mi-Lartui. When he did use the main entrance, it always meant sex was not going to be involved. Warren sighed silently. Perhaps that would be the case at the palace, too.

Warren stepped aside so the Emperor could enter.

Ztar walked around looking at the chambers as if he hadn't seen them in awhile. Warren was not going to break the silence; he wanted to see how this would play out. It was several long seconds before Ztar spoke.

"I'd like to run some concepts past you," Ztar said tentatively.

"What do you mean?" Warren was at a total loss as to what Ztar was referring to.

"The world you come from, specifically your America, is a democracy, correct?"

"Yes…"

"And you know how its government functions?" Ztar asked walking toward the balcony.

"Of course."

"And this government has been in place for some time?" the Emperor pulled a chair up to the table where Warren had been sitting.

"Over 200 years," Warren followed Ztar when the Emperor gestured him over.

"Good! Then I have questions for you." The Emperor sat down and waited for Warren to do likewise.

"First, a little background on what I'm trying to do with my Empire."

Ztar went on to explain his ideas of an Imperial democracy – patterned after the Shi'ar government, but with his own twists. He was pulling concepts from many worlds and governmental styles. Warren listened intently as Ztar laid out his ideas. The Emperor seemed genuinely excited about what he was trying to create. Warren was impressed.

"Tell me what _doesn't_ work with your democracy," Ztar requested of Warren.

Warren thought for a moment. There was a myriad of small things that came to mind, but those wouldn't help Ztar – they were minutia. Ztar was looking for basic flaws in how democracy operated.

"I think the biggest problem is fragmentation. People tend to look out for their own interests instead of considering the big picture. People will do that under any form of government, but democracy seems to encourage that attitude by its very structure. It often results in little progress, even on important issues."

Ztar nodded. "We found the same flaws within the Commonwealth democracy. I personally believe it hampered their war efforts – to our benefit. A single authority can often accomplish more and more quickly than many voices, each seeking their own gain."

"Exactly!" Warren agreed. "But those many voices can play an important role in making sure those that have no voice are heard."

"So counterpoint on that issue. What else?"

"Money. Couple democracy with free enterprise and money drives policy. Now you get those with money determining the direction of the government, often at the expense of those with little economic influence. This can cause an ever increasing power and economic gaps between the haves and have-nots. Not unique by any means to democracy, but its more of an issue than it might appear from afar."

"And where there's big money involved, corruption soon follows," Ztar added.

"You've got it. Big problems that I don't know how you can avoid in a free society."

Ztar sat quietly for a few moments.

"Anything else?"

"Not conceptually that comes to me right now. What does work well in America's democracy and is viewed with envy across the Earth is the smooth transition of power from the outgoing leadership to the new. We have basically two-party political system. In 200-plus years, America was never experienced a violent overthrow of her government by one or the other party. That is not the case with many other governments on Earth. Ensure that is the case in your new government, Ztar. It creates stability and continuity that anchors everything else."

"Wise words." Ztar looked at his Archangel. Warm feelings rose up to nearly drown him – he did love Archangel. If only this brief conversation foretold their future; what a glorious future that would be. He would hold onto memories of these past few minutes with fondness.

Ztar rose. He would not break the spell with a request for an afternoon interlude, which he had originally contemplated.

"Thank you. You've given me more to consider!"

As Ztar proceeded toward Sukja's chambers, his heart raced. It might be possible, what he hoped for Archangel. Just maybe…

Warren wasn't sure how to read what had transpired with Ztar. An actual conversation on an important issue – the future of the Turzent Empire's government. Why bother coming to Warren for his perspective? What was Ztar up to? Had it just been another attempt by the Emperor to pull Warren into this new life as Ztar had called it? Did Ztar really have delusions that they'd be a happy couple just because the setting had changed? What else would the Emperor press upon Warren and attempt to manipulate into being?

It was more than he wanted to deal with right now. He pushed thoughts aside and took to the air. Let the heavens wash away the turmoil Ztar had created in the space of less than 10 minutes.

###

Sukja agreed with Ztar's every step during the conversation with Archangel. It didn't last so long as to make Archangel uncomfortable, it tapped into his knowledge and deductive reasoning, no mental probing by the telepath, and Ztar left immediately afterward. Perfection!

###

Ztar worked late that night, contemplating what he had learned from Archangel on his view of the flaws of democracy. Neither issue was unique to Earth, but the conversation served to drive home points that needed to be carefully considered.

Once Ztar finally put down his PI, he realized the lateness of the hour. Archangel was likely already asleep. Should Ztar go there? He hadn't been with Archangel yet in the palace. His body wanted the human, now that he turned his mind to him. But perhaps another night to let the human settle in would be best. Ztar decided not to reach out to the human to confirm one way or the other if he slept – it might influence him. He made his decision. Let Archangel sleep.

###

Warren couldn't sleep. He tried, but it eluded him. At first, Warren waited with anxiety for the expected visit from Ztar, but time passed and he didn't show. By then, Warren was so wound up and tense, that his mind refused to give in to his body's desire for some shut-eye. Tossing and turning in bed was not something that was easy for one with wings. Only certain positions were completely restful and rolling over almost always involved sitting up and repositioning the wings into a location that was comfortable, then lying back down. There was a reason humans weren't suppose to have wings. God, sometimes he hated them! But just sometimes.

Exasperated, he got up, poured a glass of Dison and sat in one of the overstuffed chairs, hoping the alcohol would help. After a bit, the chair wasn't comfortable either. If he leaned back, the wings were uncomfortable. In disgust, he almost took to the air, but remembered the strict policy against late night excursions. He could break the rule, but Ztar would know the next time he read him. Warren didn't want to risk Ztar's anger, at least not yet.

So he paced and thought – definitely not what he wanted to do. Thinking always brought up painful memories and tortured thoughts about his fate in life. He wanted to retreat from the thoughts in his mind, not face them in the wee hours of the morning.

In desperation, left his chambers and prowled the palace. It was so different at night. Quiet and peaceful, very different from the daylight hours when activity was everywhere. Subdued lighting glowed throughout. Warren's night vision wouldn't have needed it, but it did give the palace a soft ambiance. He made his way to the grand reception area. The subtle lighting brought out details that weren't apparent in the daytime. The play of light and shadow exaggerated the architectural relief of the ornamentation. Walls that had seemed to glow in the daytime were radiant in the soft lighting.

Beyond the windows, the gardens and grounds were mystical as the exterior lighting created dark recesses, long shadows, and circles and shafts of illumination. In the reflecting pool, light swirled around inky pools in an almost mesmerizing dance. Warren would have ventured out, but he wasn't sure if there was an alarm system tied to the doors leading to the gardens. He could go back to his room and leave via the balcony, but he didn't have the desire.

He stood alone in the empty room by the windows. He could hear his breath and almost his heart beat it was so quiet. Suddenly, emotions rose up and he struggled to fight away the fears and tears. The image of a bird in a gilded cage sprang up. That was him – Ztar's palace his cage.

Warren looked out for a long time as tears fell, but he didn't sob. He merely stood quietly while they ran down his face. 'Damn Dison!' he chided, finally wiping his face dry. Then he almost laughed, despite himself. 'Watch yourself, flyboy – pretty soon you'll blame every on the liquor.'

The quiet emotional release did accomplish one thing – he was now sleepy. Warren walked back to his chambers and straight into bed. Within minutes, he was asleep.

###

Day three of life at the palace found Warren sleeping in. He woke with a start and knew immediately it was late by the sunlight in his room. Warren hated sleeping in, even if he was up late the night before. Mornings had been his special time since he was young – always up with the sun.

Sometimes when he was very young, he'd get into things he shouldn't while his parents still slept. Oh, Mom would make such a fuss over what he'd done, but he knew she wasn't really angry with her early bird. If only she'd known how right she was about him being an early bird! Warren missed his parents – their calls just to check in, to say they loved him. But they were long dead.

Warren shook off the reminiscing; it would only make him sad. Instead, he attended to his morning routine and grabbed a quick breakfast from his small kitchen. He really didn't feel like a flight – the magical time of morning was past. If he didn't do that, then what?

By the time Warren had been deposited on Earth after his year on the Mi-Lartui, he already had a firm grasp of the Turzent language. Now he was merely advancing his command of it, so studying was really unnecessary. Therefore, he needed a new interest, but he couldn't think of a single idea at the moment. He could explore another language, but he didn't want to spend countless hours in front of the computer anymore. That was fine on the Mi-Lartui, but here? Warren wanted something with more activity.

So he decided to explore the palace grounds. Leaving his balcony, he alighted in the gardens below. He studied the alien flowers and plants in their myriad of forms of colors, wandering in no particular direction or pattern. When something caught his attention from a distance, he'd leap into the air and landed wherever his keen eyesight had spied something of interest.

Warren took a deep breath to take in the sweet scents emanating from the gardens. He continued his explorations leisurely, having nothing else to do. Another beautiful day on Sat'rey, and the sun warmed him quickly, but comfortably so. Like the sun on a Caribbean beach – it felt good.

Watching Archangel from the first floor hall windows were Ztar and Sukja.

"Do you suppose he has any idea how beautiful he is?" It was Sukja who ventured that.

Ztar shook his head. "If you only knew, Sukja." Ztar's reply was laced with sadness. "Our Archangel believes just the opposite – that he's flawed and tainted."

"You've not shared that before." Sukja was surprised.

"I know I should have – it could make a difference in our approach to Archangel. My apologies." Ztar paused before continuing. "I just have difficulty accepting myself that someone so perfect can be filled with self-loathing. It's painful to contemplate."

"My Emperor, if that is the case, then we may need to reconsider how we help him with the transition." Sukja's thoughts ran ahead to where this new information might take them.

Ztar watched Archangel as he darted into the air once again to another part of the gardens.

"It comes from being used by others several times for their own gain over the years – years longer ago than his time with me, Sukja." Ztar wanted to be sure Sukja understood the depth of Archangel's feelings and that Ztar wasn't the only cause.

Ztar turned to his attendant. "I haven't helped, I know – just another in a line of people to add to his diminished sense of worth." Ztar turned his attention once again to watching Archangel's exploration of the gardens.

Sukja sighed deeply. "Then we have our work cut out for us. Archangel is dealing with a lot; we don't want to push too hard. For now, let's continue as we planned. I'll consider what you've told me and think about what we may to do differently."

"Reasonable." Ztar approved. "I hope someday he'll understand how beautiful he is inside and out. And his mind, Sukja, it's such a quick, disciplined mind. His nature is so gentle – he has a good soul. Beaten and battered, but still good; after all he's been through."

Ztar and Sukja stood quietly for a bit until Archangel rose up and disappeared from sight.

"I love him, Sukja," the Emperor said quietly.

Sukja nodded, he had known this before Ztar had told him three years ago. He may have known before the Emperor himself realized it. "I know, my Emperor. We'll find a way to bring happiness to Archangel." Sukja only hoped they could pull it off.

"He hates me for good reason. I pray you're right." Ztar swallowed hard and turned to Sukja.

The attendant could see something was bothering the Emperor from the look in his eyes.

The Emperor continued telepathically as a group of palace staff was now in the hall. 'The first night back on the Mi-Lartui did not go well, Sukja. I lost control.'

Sukja was actually shocked by the revelation. Ztar had done so well for three years despite all the pressures of war and separation from Archangel. What went wrong? 'That likely explains Archangel's behavior the following couple days,' Sukja noted. 'He was very distant.'

'Not only did I lose control, but when he used his calming ability to stop me, I punished him,' Ztar confessed unable to look Sukja in the eyes.

Sukja knew what Ztar meant when he said "punished him." The pain was incapacitating and blinding. Sukja's surprise deepened. What a terrible start to what Ztar had hoped would be a fresh start with the human!

'That's just the latest of my atrocities. One more reason Archangel may never forgive me. In his mind, he has very graphic terms to describe me, all of them justified and true. I'm a monster and have done horrible things to him and others. Things I can never atone for…'

Sukja looked at this man who, despite of his dark side, he respected. The good side of Ztar, he admired. The other side, he chose to not fully acknowledge. A strange situation, he admitted. At this moment, that good side was beating Ztar up.

"My Emperor," Sukja spoke aloud now that the hallway was again empty, except for them. "That does not mean you are incapable of changing. You have been changing already over the past few years. If you chose, you can become a man that has overcome his past and reaches his potential, maybe exceeds it."

"Right now I'm interested in two things, our Empire's future and Archangel. I want to help both be better…stronger. I want Archangel to know he's beautiful. I want him to at least tolerate me without such contempt."

"In helping Archangel, you may also help yourself. As for the Empire, it is in the very best of hands." Sukja smiled at his Emperor. Yes, he admired this man more with each new step he took toward maturity and away from the anger and self-centeredness.

###

Sukja answered the door chime to find Archangel.

"Archangel! Please, come in." Sukja was surprised. Archangel had rarely sought him out.

It was early afternoon and not too early for a glass of Dison. Sukja offered one to Archangel, who took it readily. They moved to the patio and sat.

"I'm bored."

Sukja laughed. He couldn't help it. Archangel had been at the palace not three full days and already he was bored?

The attendant's laughter caused Warren to smile just a little. He didn't have much to smile about in his new life, but Sukja's laugh gave him an excuse.

"I really don't see why that's so funny," Warren feigned offense.

"My apologies, Archangel. You've been here for less than three days. All that there is to explore, all that is new to you on this world, and you're bored?" Sukja mocked him in jest.

Warren simply smiled. He remained leery of the Emperor's attendant and would not allow himself to get too friendly.

Sukja studied the human. He was holding back. Sukja recognized the effort. Nothing had changed in that area since Archangel had lived on the Mi-Lartui three years ago. He had a consistent wariness about him. Form no attachments; make no friends; trust no one. Except one – the friendship he had with the Mi-Lartui's procurement officer. Officer de'Letnoir was no longer a member of the crew, having chosen to join a battle ship during the war where they thought he could make a direct more contribution. Sukja had no idea if the man had survived or not.

"What do you want to do?"

"That's the problem. I don't know my options."

"What did you like to do on Earth?" Sukja risked bringing up memories of Earth, but it seemed the logical question.

Warren sighed. "_Before_ Ztar," he placed special emphasis on that, "I was usually too busy with the X-men or my businesses to have a lot of leisure time. I did like to travel, but that's not an option here."

"Why do you say that?"

Warren was confused. Maybe his Turzent wasn't as good as he thought. "Say what?"

"That travel's not an option here."

"Well, Ztar wouldn't allow…"

"Have you asked?" Sukja pressed.

Warren shook his head – this wasn't making sense. Sukja was toying with him.

"Archangel, Ztar has given no orders that you need to stay at the palace. Only that when you're out flying by yourself that you stay within the Imperial Valley for security reasons. That does not mean you can't shuttle elsewhere. All of Sat'rey is open to you. I apologize that I didn't tell you before. An imperial guard, a pilot, and a shuttle are all you need to go anywhere on the planet you desire."

Archangel was frowning in a puzzled way.

"You are Imperial staff now – a member of court. That has many privileges. If you chose to see the rest of the planet, Ztar and I only ask that you let us know where you're going and when you'll return. Likely at first, Ztar will insist that I accompany you or you go only on day trips, until he's comfortable that you're safe exploring on your own."

Warren was suspicious. This was 180 degrees from what he had come to expect from his life with the Emperor.

"We should have had this talk before even arriving here – I see that now. Or, I should have explained more thoroughly over lunch that first day. Your life here will bear little resemblance to your life on the Mi-Lartui. Ztar was very clear on that. As I said, you are fully Imperial staff. Ztar decreed that even before we retrieved you from Earth. That means you have the right to travel, to come and go as you please, and the right to direct palace staff. Unlike before, your position is now as an equal to me and Ztar's other Imperial staff members. You answer only to the Emperor."

Sukja gave Archangel the time he needed to process what he had said. Sukja hadn't failed to explain properly earlier, he had planned this. Draw Archangel in slowly, methodically – to not push too hard or too fast.

Warren rolled the information over in his mind and decided to contemplate later what Sukja explained. Instead, Warren asked an indirect question, and he'd be watching Sukja very carefully.

"Why the change?"

Sukja waited a moment before speaking. "Ztar is changing. As I said two days ago, the war had a major impact on him. I believe he's reprioritizing. He's going to create a new government for the Empire. Without the war, I don't think he would be doing that. I've noticed other changes as Ztar has grown older. The illusion of invincibility that accompanies youth has passed. He has come to grips with his mortality. I think he wants to leave a better legacy than the one he's written thus far."

"What's all that got to do with me? He was very clear on the Mi-Lartui why I'm around. He didn't sound changed to me!" Anger flared in the blue eyes.

Sukja nodded. "Ztar confessed to me what he did. Telling you he deeply regrets his behavior of that night is meaningless, so I won't insult you with it. I said he is changing – he's evolving. He hasn't gotten there yet. And I don't know how far his past will let that change progress. He is still vacillating between the old Ztar and the new. Two steps forward, one back. But I see hope."

"When he releases me from bondage, I'll believe he's changed. Not 'til then!" Archangel's wings spread behind him and he leaned closer to Sukja. "I'm not a fool. I will not be manipulated into thinking that Ztar is anything other than a sadistic rapist. I'm the one who has taken the abuse from the man you say is changing!" Archangel got to his feet, fists clenched. "This conversation is over."

Sukja rose and faced the angry human. The reaction was not unexpected. In fact, it was a good thing. Ztar wanted the fiery spirit to have survived the mess he made of that first night on the Mi Lartui and the last four years.

"You asked for my opinion, Archangel, and I gave it. I apologize if you view that as manipulation."

Archangel left Sukja's chambers without another word.

###

Warren was livid! He ripped the balcony door open and it slammed loudly against the wall. He leapt into the sky with adrenaline pumping. What a crock of shit!! Warren had seen little change in his tormentor in the last three years, as his first night on the Mi-Lartui proved. If Sukja really believed Ztar was changing, he should exchange places with Warren for one night. Then he'd see the Emperor for what he was – sadistic and depraved.

Warren's wings sliced savagely at the air as he climbed rapidly. Just try to tempt him with the illusion of freedom. Shuttles and pilots at his disposal. Bullshit! A cage is still a cage no matter how many trinkets and toys are tossed in. Did they think him a _complete_ _fool_?!

And then the nonsense about being Imperial staff. What did they think? If they gave him a title that he'd forget he's the Emperor's whore? That he was such a simpleton, he'd buy into their pathetic maneuverings? Warren burned with indignation.

Higher still he climbed, and the world dropped away. Caged and tormented, that summed up his life. No where to go. No reprieve. No choice. Not without turning Earth over to the Turzent. Earth was depending on him. People he cared about depended on him – their very lives where Warren's to either protect or toss away. But the price for protection was so high – so incredibly hard to endure.

And higher still. Up into the heavens and away from the gilded cage below.

When he finally reached a height where even his lungs couldn't catch enough oxygen, he hovered. It was bitterly cold; brutally in fact. The world below curved away at the horizons. He was very high – too high. But he didn't descend. He wanted nothing to do with the life beneath him. Better to die from up here in the rarified air than a slow death of the soul on the ground.

Warren was woozy and the cold sunk deep, already affecting his body. He was shivering uncontrollably. It was getting harder to beat his wings as the thin structures turned stiff with the severe cold. The warning in the Accord briefly flashed through his thoughts – if he died at his own hands, Earth would be enslaved. His numbed mind turned to the loss of his friends and teammates. They would find a way to survive the Turzents. Everyone else on Earth was a stranger. Let them figure out how to deal with the Ztar – Warren had done his time. He could endure no more. Earth be damn!

Ztar dropped his PI. Archangel was in trouble. He expanded empathically to find Archangel in physical distress far above the planet. Telepathically, Ztar touched the human's mind. He was on the verge of suicide!

The immense weight he bore felt like it was crushing him with agonizing slowness. Warren was so tired, so very tired of it all. Now he was trapped on an alien world never again to see the world he was protecting. Best just to let go, close his eyes, and it would be over quickly. So very, very tired… Warren pulled his wings tight and allowed himself to fall.


	2. Chapter 2

_Greetings readers! Just wondering what you thought of Chapter One. Any and all feedback is appreciated - immensely. I hope I caught your attention enough that you'll continue with me here to pick up where we left off. _

_If you're liking this, be sure to check out the prequel - Sacrifice. It will give you all the missing pieces. Happy reading!_

**Chapter Two**

Faster and faster Warren fell, but he cared little.

30,000 feet. 29,000. 28,000.

Ztar's mind raced. He had precious little time to decide how to reach the human and convince him to live.

Down and down, through the layers of atmosphere. The wind screamed past his frozen, oxygen-starved body. Warren felt little.

'Archangel!' the hated voice reverberated in his head. He ignored it. He just wanted to drift off.

27,000. 26,000.

Backwards he dropped through the air, his wings trailing around and above him. All he saw where his wings and the deep aqua-blueness of the sky.

'You don't want this – not really. Stay awake!' the voice implored.

25,000.

It was better this way. Earth would need to find its own way and not ride on Warren's back. He was so tired of the weight, so tired of the pain, so tired of Ztar's attentions.

'Archangel!!' came the desperate cry again. 'Please don't do this!'

Maybe Warren's death while they were telepathically connected would destroy the Emperor, his numbed brain managed to contemplate. A possibility – intriguing.

24,000…23,000.

'Archangel, Earth needs you. This is not what you want to do!'

Ztar was desperate for anything to shake Archangel out of his current state. Ztar held imposing mind control in reserve. He would only employ that at the last moment. Archangel must choose life himself.

Warren ignored Ztar as best he could.

22,000…21,000.

'I will destroy them!' Ztar's threat rang loudly in Warren's mind.

'Do it.' Warren thought back. His death would be quick. There'd be no time for pain.

20,000.

'How can you force my hand like this? I don't want to harm your world, but I will if I must! If I allow one treaty to be broken without consequence, others will attempt likewise. I cannot allow that!'

19,000.

'Your death will back me into a corner. I beg you, don't put me or your world – your friends – into that position.'

18,000.

'Go fuck yourself!' Warren lashed back.

17,000.

Warren tried to convince himself he didn't care what happened to the Earth's people. How many times had he put his life on the line for those countless millions? Did any of them care? Did they even know? Like the past four years, few people knew or would be concerned even if they did that he'd given up his whole life for their sake.

16,000.

'Are you going to throw away a life of protecting your world and its people?' the voice in his head demanded. 'You're taking the coward's way out!'

15,000.

Warren registered that the air was warmer. It was much easier to breath now.

14,000.

Earth. His beautiful home. No other planet he visited during the year on the Mi-Lartui equaled it. What would Ztar do to it? Strip it bare of all its resources? Destroy everything about humanity that makes it unique in the universe – its art, music, its traditions?

13,000.

'Time grows short, human! Decide if your world remains free or enslaved!!' the voice raged in his mind.

Ztar was preparing to take control over Archangel's mind as he continued to monitor his thoughts. But what if he waited too long? He watched the sky carefully for any glimpse of the human.

12,000…11,000.

The Professor. Hank. Scott. Jean. Bobby – the original team. What would they say of him? What legacy would Warren leave if he tossed away Earth?

10,000…9,000

Try as he might, Warren couldn't surrender his world. He had given too much already to save it. Warren firmly believed that the sadistic bastard of an Emperor would make good on his promise to enslave Earth, if only out of spite.

Monitoring Archangel's thoughts, Ztar began to believe the human would choose life as he strained his eyes at the sky.

'It's now or never, Archangel. Decide!' Ztar's voice demanded. How much longer should he wait? Fear gripped him more tightly with each passing second.

8,000.

He wouldn't be the cause of so much agony. His agony in exchange for that of 6 billion people.

7,000.

The lower altitude air was much warmer. He was thawing.

6,000.

'You need to decide now, Archangel!' Ztar was stern. In another second he'd take control unless Archangel decided to live. He thought he finally saw a tiny figure in the blueness.

5,000.

Warren fought to roll. It was difficult to change his position from the backward plunge to forward flight.

4,000.

The winds tore at him. He drew his wings even tighter to his body to roll. It was so hard! He was still stiff from the cold. The first attempt failed.

Ztar's knees gave out and he collapsed to the ground as the human's first roll failed. By the gods, what if Archangel couldn't save himself?!

3,000.

He tried again. The second attempt failed.

'You must try again!' Ztar pleaded, watching the small figure dropping at incredible speed.

2,000.

Gritting his teeth, he used all his strength and skill for another attempt to right himself in the sky.

1,000.

He finally rolled. Oh my God, the ground was so _close_!!

In panic, he stretched his wings and grabbed too much air. The sudden change in velocity knocked the wind out of him and tore at his wings. White hot pain seared through the connective tissue. The pain caused him to draw in his wings and he plunged again. At least this time he was facing the right way.

900. 800.

Ztar knew instantly from his telepathic connection that Archangel was injured. His healing factor was fast, but was it fast enough?

700. 600.

The ground was coming at him at incredible speed. Warren did his best to block the pain and he slowly stretched out his wings to gradually catch the air. Finally, he managed a gliding spiral to shed speed.

500. 400. 300.

He leveled out. Since he had gone pretty much straight up and straight down, he was still within the Imperial Valley, and the palace not too far away. His wings burned intensely and pain shot through his back and shoulders with every movement. The best he could do was endure until his body healed the worst of what he knew were torn ligaments and tendons. Riding the currents above the valley floor, he continued to glide on the winds while his body took care of the worst injuries.

Ztar thought he'd pass out. Thank the gods! For the second time in four years, Archangel was pulled back from the brink. Ztar remained on the garden grounds where he had run when he knew Archangel was falling. He kept his eyes locked on Archangel as he rode the air currents beyond the palace grounds.

Now that the immediate crisis was over, he summoned Sukja and pushed into his attendant's mind the events of the last couple minutes. Sukja came running.

After several minutes, Warren felt he could attempt to land. A few tentative wing beats and he was headed toward the palace. Each beat brought stabbing pain, and Warren knew he was re-injuring with every stroke, but his body would deal with it once he landed. Warren gritted his teeth and continued toward the palace.

"Where is he now?" Sukja asked as he approached Ztar.

"To the north just beyond the palace grounds."

Sukja looked up and thought he saw the sun glint off the white wings.

"He's injured, Sukja. Trying to catch his fall, he was hurt," Ztar voiced was filled with pain. "Sukja, I'm killing him. I'm killing my Archangel!"

Sukja simply sat next to his Emperor on the ground. It pained Sukja immensely to see Ztar so upset. He needed Archangel so desperately!

"My Emperor, this time it was me that pushed him too far…just a few minutes ago," Sukja's heart was heavy with remorse. This near disaster was his screw up, his fault. He hadn't believed Archangel was that upset. Why didn't he pick up on it? How could he have been so negligent?

Ztar tore his gaze away from Archangel to look into his attendant's eyes. "Whatever you did, I have no doubt that you did so for my benefit, as always. No, the fault lies squarely on me, Sukja. He's here because of me – all his pain and anger is rooted in that fact." Then Ztar turned his eyes to the sky again.

Sukja followed Ztar's gaze to the sky and he watched Archangel approach. He was definitely not flying right. The usual smoothness of his wing beats was replaced with ragged motion.

Warren saw Ztar and Sukja on the ground of the gardens. He watched as they stood.

'I will block your pain as best I can,' Ztar slipped into Warren's mind. Then he sensed the gentle pain suppression that felt amazingly similar to the blocks the Professor had used on Warren several times over the course of the years. The release from the worst pain was welcomed, but it only went so far. It still hurt like hell to land, but if Ztar hadn't blocked, Warren would have certainly crash landed.

Ztar walked the few feet to Archangel and grabbed him tightly, his arms wrapped around the human in a desperate embrace; careful, though, to avoid the injured areas.

"Thank the gods!" Ztar buried his face in Archangel's hair and held on.

Warren stood stiffly in Ztar's bear hug. Then Ztar pulled back, cupped Warren's head in his hands, and looked down into his eyes.

"Please, I beg you, give me a chance to make things right. To erase all the horrors. I can't lose you – not like that! I love you, Archangel."

Warren looked into Ztar's brown eyes. While the Emperor seemed on the verge of breaking down, Warren's heart was not touched by the Emperor's words. Ztar was delusional if he believed it would be otherwise. So what if this sadist had misgivings about how he treated Warren for four, endless years. This man was incapable of compassion, let alone love!

"When you release me without harming the Earth, I'll know you mean that!"

The coldness in Archangel's eyes and the loathing in his mind sent ice shards through Ztar's heart. Archangel would not stay if freed. Therefore, Ztar would not release him. Stalemate. Ztar backed away and headed to the palace. So much hate to overcome. Could he ever convince Archangel to let it go?

'It's your own fault, Emperor!' Ztar pointed out to himself. 'You screwed this up from day one. So much hatred to overcome!'

Warren watched Ztar as he entered the palace. Then he sat down on the ground. His legs could no longer hold him up. The realization that he nearly committed suicide shook him to his core. He hadn't meant to do it. What had happened? The idea that he was so close to the edge and didn't even know it frightened him.

Sukja knelt beside Archangel, but said nothing. His words had pushed Archangel to nearly taking his own life, so he said none now. The near fatal misstep rocked him. 'The infallible Sukja isn't, is he, famed attendant?' Sukja judged himself.

The two men sat quietly on the grass for several minutes.

"Ztar is delusional." The words came out quietly, but with conviction.

"Perhaps," was all Sukja said.

They were silent for another minute.

"I can't – won't give Ztar what he wants," Warren stated bluntly.

Sukja nodded.

"Why can't he just let me _go_?" It was Warren's soul that cried that out.

The human's eyes locked Sukja's with their intensity.

"It's not his nature. Not right now. Maybe in the future." Sukja paused to gather his thoughts. "I was truthful earlier when I said I believe he is changing. I was also truthful when I told you I'm uncertain how much he'll eventually change. Perhaps the day will come when he can love enough to let go – when his needs are no longer all consuming. Ztar isn't there yet."

The human was watching Sukja intently, and Sukja knew Archangel was looking for signs of deception and manipulation. Since Sukja was being completely honest, there was nothing for Archangel to find.

"I don't know if I'll survive until he decides to change," Warren said with equal honesty. The burden he carried felt impossibly heavy at the moment.

Sukja quickly weighed the pros and cons of what he wanted to say next. It would either help or blow up in his face. He decided to risk it. Whether Archangel admitted it or not, he wanted someone on his side. Perhaps not a friend, but someone to help him survive regardless of their motives.

"Archangel, I've been with Ztar for many years. As his attendant, I have some influence. During those years, I struggled to help him grow and mature. I cannot control or manipulate the Emperor, but I can show him options, offer advice – as long it comes from my desire to help him. Any other motive would have gotten me released from service years ago."

The admission surprised Warren. He hadn't thought about it before. Sukja must truly like the Emperor, or he's right – he wouldn't be here right now. You can't hide your feelings or ulterior motives from a powerful telepath.

"Ztar is intelligent. He knows that there are many forms of love, including the kind that lets go regardless of the personal cost. At this point, he's stuck at possessive love. Perhaps I can help him move away from that, perhaps not. But if I try, my motives need to be entirely focused on him. He cannot see my advice or suggestions as manipulation on behalf of another."

"I'm as much of a possession to Ztar as you are, Archangel. He guards my time and my actions jealously. But I've seen much progress over the years. Ztar has evolved significantly from when I first came into his service. Some of that change is because of me, some in spite of me, some because of Ztar himself."

"My promise to you, Archangel, is that I'll continue do what I can to help the Emperor move in the direction he needs go. He'll be better for it – more capable of leading a lasting empire. And if as a side effect of that change he treats you more compassionately and maybe ultimately can let you go, all the better."

Warren had watched every body movement and listened to every voice inflection and word while Sukja spoke. He believed that either Sukja was a perfect liar or he was telling the truth. Warren was leaning toward the latter. He had studied the alien's body language carefully during his year on the Mi-Lartui and he found no signs of deception now. He would give the attendant the benefit of the doubt.

Sukja had watched the human watch him. He hoped that his instincts were right and Archangel had believed him. Sukja had spoken truthfully from the heart. And truth may be the only thing capable of breaking the stalemate between the Emperor and the human.

"I think I can stand now," Archangel informed Sukja, choosing not to respond to what had been said.

Sukja rose quickly and held out a hand.

At first Warren hesitated. Allowing Sukja to help him up carried symbolic messages. But this time, he'd accept the offer. A peace offering of sorts, as Warren suspected Sukja may harbor some guilt about his plunge. He grabbed Sukja's hand and stood. His legs still slightly shaky, but much stronger than earlier.

The two men walked to the palace in silence.

###

Ztar's mind jumped from one image of Archangel to another in a series of flashbacks from the past four years. All the hurt he had inflicted, the callous mistreatment, the intentional desire to satisfy his needs without regard to the human, the intense pain and trauma his attentions had caused, right up to eight days ago on the Mi-Lartui.

'You are ill,' he told himself. Then he thought back to all the other unwilling bedmates he had gone through, destroyed, or cast aside without care when he was tired of them. Their lives, mind, bodies never the same.

'_I_ should be the one attempting suicide!' he condemned himself.

Ztar paced in agitation within his chambers. 'There is no reason Archangel would want to stay – I've given him nothing but reason to want me dead or to be dead himself! How did I become such a _monster?_!'

He stopped and took in a deep breath to calm himself. Losing control of his emotions wasn't comfortable – at least not outside the bedchamber. It was in that arena where he tended to loose himself in his emotions and needs. That thought gave him pause. Am I controlling my emotions outside the bedchambers at the price of my time in bed? At the price of my bedmates?

He began pacing again, trying to figure himself out. When did he become the monster Archangel saw? Ztar could not find a specific point in time when he moved from normalcy to abnormalcy. The change had been gradual and insidious. He remembered no time when he made a conscious decision to become callous and cruel.

Ztar knew a major turning point in his life was the augmentation and the awakening of his latent mutant abilities. Suddenly, he could make people do things – knew what they were thinking, feeling, desired, and feared. He could injure or kill with only a thought. Not to mention the energy field he wielded. Ztar didn't even have to dirty his mind to kill – the energy field meant he could cause death without feeling the victim die in his mind. Such power!

The augmentation program also gave him his great strength – the part of his transformation that wasn't due to his natural mutations. He was bigger, stronger, and faster than others of his kind. Genetic manipulation and his own mutant abilities combined to make him a juggernaut.

When did that power translate to cruelty? Ztar saw himself as a stern ruler, but just. Do not cross him, but if you obeyed and served him well, you were rewarded. Yet Ztar didn't respect blind obedience. He valued intellect and different perspectives. But if you disagreed with him, make sure your arguments were well founded on facts and deductive logic. He would not suffer puppets, fools, or incompetents. No, Ztar found little fault in how he ruled – nothing he would dramatically change. The problem wasn't there. It was in the bedchamber alone.

He used to be a magnificent lover! He fully enjoyed sex. During his early years in the military, he had his choice of bedmates. Ztar was the handsome, skillful lover who was quickly rising through the ranks. Women and men alike sought him out to spend time in his bed.

But then the augmentation program was forced upon him by enemies he didn't know he had. After that, his body was foreign to him – so strong, so able to inflict pain without intending to. He had to be so-o careful. No longer could he lose himself to the passion – his partner could be injured or worse if he did!

The joy and release he once found in bed had become a distant memory. Frustration and desire grew with each new bedmate that he couldn't engage fully. Frustration became anger. And perhaps, it was that anger that had morphed into cruelty.

Ztar saw with a new clarity that he had punished his bedmates for his inability to find complete sexual release and gratification. When did that become okay in Ztar's mind? At what point did he stop caring about his bedmates and sought only pleasure for himself? When did pain and cruelty start supplanting sensual pleasures?

Ztar shook his head. It would likely take more than self-reflection to unearth exactly how he evolved into the perversion Archangel saw. One of the Imperial psychiatrists perhaps? No. Ztar wasn't ready to go down that path. His whole life was about creating his own destiny. He wanted to change and he'd find a way to make that happen. Ztar would claw his own way out of the personal pit he'd dug himself into.

He'd change for Archangel – fix himself for the one individual who had so far survived his dark side longer than anyone else. But today's events showed just how tenuous that survival was. Ztar had to change quickly to avoid any further acts of desperation by Archangel.

'It is likely too late,' he reminded himself. 'Archangel may already be lost to you forever.'

Then there was the obstacle he had no control over. Ztar had known from his first reading of the human that Archangel wasn't like Ztar. Archangel's nature was male/female relationships only. Yet he still wanted to show Archangel that a same gender relationship was possible. He wanted to at least try for a more normal, emotionally healthier relationship. In the end, he may not win Archangel's heart, but at least he would be a better man. And perhaps, if he was very lucky, Archangel would loath him just a little less.

Ztar considered the toughest question of all – could he give up Archangel to save him? No, not yet. Ztar wasn't that strong. He freely admitted his need for the human was still too powerful. For now, he'd do what was in his power to make Archangel's life less difficult. But give up the human? Ztar wouldn't go that far.

The Emperor did not visit Archangel that night. It would have been too painful for both of them he believed.

###

Perhaps he should attempt suicide more often! It was likely the reason Ztar stayed in his own chambers another night.

The further Warren moved from the event, the less it worried him. He hadn't intended to harm himself. He had been angry, not in despair. Freezing and oxygen depravation can do very strange things to your mind. He firmly believed if he hadn't climbed so very high that his plunge would not have occurred. In spite of everything he had been through the past four years, he hadn't once seriously considered suicide – it just wasn't an option for him. Even after his brush with insanity after the second night with Ztar brought on by the intense mental trauma and physical injuries he had suffered, he hadn't been pushed toward taking his own life.

No, Warren concluded, he was not really suicidal. On the verge of going out of his mind, perhaps; but not on taking his life. Not yet anyway.

###

Early morning of the fourth day at Ztar's palace brought a surprise. Sukja had commed him that the three men were going to take a trip into the nearby Imperial City of Yaunra. Warren was to be at the shuttle pad at 8.0 – mid-morning. Apparently, Sukja's talk of shuttle trips was being made reality. Despite his circumstance, Warren looked forward to the trip. He had always loved visiting new places. This would be the first time he had seen a Turzent city up close. All the side trips they'd taken his year on the Mi-Lartui had been to the open skies of the countryside.

Warren dressed in one of the many daytime outfits that Sukja had custom-made for him, selecting versatility for activities yet unknown. At 8.0 on the dot, he leapt off his balcony and alighted on the shuttle pad just as Ztar and Sukja exited the palace.

"Greetings, my Archangel!" Ztar offered with a subdued smile. The Emperor tried to express warmth, but not to overdue.

He and Sukja had had two long talks since yesterday's near tragedy – the first that night, and the second prior to morning's outing. In fact, the outing was a direct result of those discussions.

Conducting one of his undetectable probes, Ztar determined that Archangel likely wasn't on the brink of taking his life. He had read the thoughts in the human's mind and concluded as Archangel had himself, it was a unique set of circumstances that led to the fall. The relief Ztar felt at gaining the knowledge was enormous. But what he had finally admitted to himself during his own retrospective analysis required a change of approach. He had a new game plan. Now if only the Emperor had the strength to see it through.

The threesome boarded the shuttle. The pilot, co-pilot, and two guards were already on board and settled in. The craft rose and darted into the morning sky.

Sukja, in his usual talkative manner, gave a travelogue about Yaunra. The Imperial City had been such since Ztar became Emperor. Not simply because it was his place of birth, but because he loved the city so much. Sat'rey was part of the old Ta'oc Worlds Empire, which under Ztar, grew and expanded to become the Turzent Empire. After so many generations of Turzent rule, Ztar's species – true Turzents – and other immigrants outnumbered the native Sat'rey peoples.

"As the seat of Imperial government, Yaunra is a thriving metropolis," Sukja went on to explain. "It's a major tourist destination and the center of trade and commerce for the sector and home to a myriad of species from all across the Empire. Yet the charm and warmth of the planet has not been lost. In fact, that characteristic of its native people seems to pull the newcomer in, molding them to the welcoming culture Sat'rey is known for. Needless to say, Sat'rey is a very desirable place to call home!" he finished with a wide smile. He had used this narrative many times in the past when ushering first-time visitors to the city and he still liked how it sounded.

"Some of my favorite people live here, Archangel," Ztar injected. "I'm going to introduce you to a couple of them today so you have familiar faces to visit when you decide to come to the city on your own."

Warren noted the 'when,' not 'if'. Ztar seemed pretty confident that Warren would visit the city again.

The shuttle began its descent a very short distance beyond the Imperial Valley, meaning the city was very close to the palace. Setting down in what was likely a private landing site, the pilot immediately opened the shuttle door to allow his passengers to disembark quickly.

"I have several shuttle pads throughout the city, Archangel, near most of my favorite areas. Today, we're going to the trades market to see Niat," Ztar explained as they exited the shuttle, guards close behind. "It's a short walk to his shop, but there's someone else we hope to see first."

Warren looked around from the second story landing pad. This area of Yaunra reminded him of a crowded Mediterranean city. None of the buildings here rose much above three stories, were densely packed together and most appeared to be built out of natural materials. Sounds of a bustling neighborhood rose up from the streets below. He could smell food cooking and felt the energy one only feels when you're in the midst of a busy city.

They descended from the rooftop landing pad to street level and merged into the stream of people on the walkways. The guards stayed very close and the pedestrians apparently knew not to crowd the Emperor. And how could one miss that it was the Emperor? He stood at least a head taller than most every one else they passed.

"Emperor – greetings!" A friendly shout came from one of the open-air shops as they passed.

"It's the Emperor – he's back" Warren heard in the background. "The Emperor is here!" "Ztar has returned – I heard he had." "Look, Paeto, it's Emperor Ztar!"

Each voice he heard seemed happy to see the Emperor. It contrasted Warren's feelings regarding the Emperor so greatly he had difficulty accepting the peoples's response to seeing their ruler.

Then he started to hear other words in the wild mix of bits and pieces of conversation he caught. "Who's that with him?" "Never saw the species before!" "Probably from one of the newer systems." "He's beautiful!" "Do you think he can fly? Wouldn't _that_ be amazing!"

Warren closed his ears to those words. Maybe they wouldn't know exactly what his role was, but Warren feared he wasn't the first Imperial bedmate that Ztar had brought here. He shoved aside the thoughts. 'Don't ruin the outing,' he ordered himself. 'Just enjoy the city – focus on that.'

Ztar had been monitoring Archangel since the moment they stepped out of the shuttle. The human was reacting as Ztar and Sukja had anticipated. So far, so good!

Having shoved negativity aside, Warren took in the sights, sounds, and smells of this new place. As much as he loved wide open spaces, he also enjoyed the energy of city life. Shops and restaurants lined the street. Second and third stories seemed to be a blend of residential, storage, and other non-retail uses. Species of all sorts carried on the daily business of life, although Ztar's species was definitely in the majority. Warren even caught of glimpse of one of Sukja's kind, just as the older woman called out.

"Sukja, my friend! You've returned!" she greeted from her shop doorway a few paces ahead of the threesome. Catching the eye of the Imperial guards, she waited for the nod that it was okay to approach.

"Atichi, it is good to see you!" and the two Ozjaerians embraced in a heartfelt hug.

"My Emperor!" Atichi greeted with just a slight bow and a wide smile.

"Atichi, I trust you are well?" Ztar asked, smiling equally wide.

"As well as this old body can manage!" Then she turned to Warren. "Who is our new friend?"

"This is Archangel from Earth system and the newest member of my Imperial staff," the Emperor explained. "Archangel, this is Atichi from Ozjaer. As shrewd a business person as you will meet!" Ztar added with a laugh.

Warren smiled and bowed slightly at the Atichi and was rewarded with a sparkling smile filled with warmth and welcome.

"Emperor, you flatter me!" Atichi's laughter twinkled and her eyes sparkled at the Emperor as she turned her attention back to him. Everything about her body language was welcoming and disarming at the same time. Warren felt she must have been quite the temptress in her day.

"Do you have time to stop in?" she said reaching out and grabbing Sukja's hand, holding it between her two.

"You're one of the reasons we're here, my friend!" he replied, and they entered her shop. Atichi shut the door behind them, which Warren guessed in this world meant the shop was closed as every shop door he had seen was open. Warren noted that one guard remained outside and the other positioned himself inside at the shop entrance.

Atichi motioned the three men to be seated at the small round table toward the back corner of the shop. It was apparent this spot was meant to sit with customers.

The Ozjaerian excused herself, disappeared in the rear of the store, and quickly returning with a large pot of what smelled like Sukja's favorite Tanquer root tea and four cups.

"I always keep a pot going and this one is fresh from just a few minutes ago!" she shared as she served. A cookie-like treat had also materialized from Atichi's back room. When all was to her satisfaction, Atichi sat.

"It is good to see you home once again!" the shopkeeper began. "Perhaps you plan to stay awhile?"

"We do, indeed, my dear Atichi," Sukja proclaimed. "The Emperor hopes to spend much more time here where he is most happy!"

Ztar simply nodded in agreement. Atichi looked inquisitively toward Archangel, but said nothing.

Sukja began his normal social chatter, inquiring about the various friends and associates he, Ztar, and Atichi had in common. The foursome sipped tea and munched on cookies while old acquaintances got reacquainted.

Atichi was as good a storyteller as Sukja. She wove tales of the Yaunra neighborhood her shop resided in, of its various people, the ups and downs of business and life. Warren found that although he knew nothing of the people and places Atichi spoke of, he was pulled into their lives.

As he listened, though, Warren glanced around the intriguing little shop. It was stuffed with a wide range of wares – household items, decorative and utilitarian; foods and apparently herbs and spices; and various items designed to pamper one's body and soul. It was an old place and every corner was full of undiscovered treasures for the shopper interested enough to search. Warren was fond of places like this – cozy and inviting without pretense. He sensed the shop was a direct reflection of its keeper. One corner caught his sharp eyes. It contained what were obviously old books. In such as advanced society, seeing printed books seemed out of place.

Atichi saw Warren looking in the direction of her book corner. "Are you a reader, Archangel?" she inquired.

Warren turned back to her. "Not as much as Sukja." Warren knew Sukja was an avid reader, but usually on his PI.

"I like _books_ – those PIs are too impersonal. I enjoy turning the page and the feel of the book in my hands. I just feel closer to the author." Then she laughed. "I probably sound like a retroist!"

Warren has unfamiliar with the word, but then he was still learning Turzent and this woman had a much stronger accent than Sukja. Warren had been struggling to follow her at times, but then she hadn't been speaking directly to him until now so it hadn't mattered. He unobtrusively turned on the translator remote in his pocket. Now he was glad he had remembered it.

"Like a…" Warren prompted her to explain.

"Retroist. Or maybe you're not familiar... Someone who prefers the old ways, before technology became so advance," she explained.

"Technology can be isolating," Warren offered.

"That's it exactly!" Atichi exclaimed. "That's why I like the books – there is a piece of the writer in those pages. The stories feel more alive." Then she shook her head as if disagreeing with an internal thought. "I sometimes wonder how much of ourselves we've lost to technology."

"As long as you keep the books available, we won't have lost them!" Sukja declared. Atichi's smile was one of gratitude.

Atichi rose and walked over to the book corner. She looked carefully over the shelves for a moment. "There you are," and she pulled a book from its place. As she settled back in at the table, she held the book out to Warren. "I think you may like this one. It is one of my special favorites."

Warren took the book from the elder Ozjaerian's hand. "Times Ago?" he read the title aloud.

"Yes, it is about times long ago, when my home planet Ozjaer was younger. It tells the story of one family that seeks to rise above their circumstance, despite a life that tries to push them down through servitude. It's about taking what life has dealt you and turning it to your advantage."

Warren swallowed. She must know – it was just too coincidental. He felt a heat rising in his cheeks, but if Atichi noticed any blush, she didn't let on.

"I love stories of triumph over the odds. I like to think 'Times Ago' is a story of my life, too."

"How so?" Warren asked, relieved he may have jumped to conclusions.

"A tale for another time, Archangel," her voice had echoes of pain in it.

There was a pause in the conversation that Ztar ended. "I believe we need to continue on our way, Atichi. As always, your hospitality warms the heart!" The Emperor stood and the rest followed his lead.

"Please do not be strangers!" Atichi turned to Warren and took his hand. "You come by any time you wish, with or without travel companions. I love to sit and talk – just ask these two." Her eyes locked on Warren's. "I hope you enjoy the book. I looked forward to discussing it when you return."

"Thank you for letting me borrow it, Atichi," Warren said warmly to the shopkeeper. He felt he would indeed come back to visit his woman. He had liked her almost immediately. "Until next time," he said with a smile.

Good-byes exchanged, the threesome departed Atichi's shop as she watched from the doorway.

Together with their guards, the small group proceeded down the crowded street as the pedestrians parted to allow the Imperial party to pass with ease. The intermittent calls of greeting continued as they made their way to the open market area.

You could follow your nose to the market. An amazing variety of aromas wafted down the street. The crowds grew larger and the hustle increased as people streamed past with their parcels and bags. An open air market in the heart of a city of highly advanced alien race – Warren was mesmerized. His images of a sterile, technology driven culture were shattered. This was like any European city he'd ever visited – alive, welcoming, and full of energy.

Ztar briefly touched Archangel's mind and was happy that the human was enthralled with his favorite place in the Empire. Sat'rey was his choice for the Imperial palace for a reason. These people knew how to live and how to be alive! Food and socializing defined their culture. Sat'rey's people were welcoming and accepting no matter where its inhabitants originated. In all his Empire, Sat'rey was the most tolerant. This is how he ultimately envisioned his new Empire – a place that valued and encouraged differences. It's greatest strength coming from its diversity.

"I think you'll like Niat also," Ztar told Archangel as they entered a large shop filled with hundreds of foods in bins, barrels, trays, displays, and carts – fresh, dried, pickled, preserved, alive, and dead. Dozens of people mingled in the shop while tasting, examining, bartering, and buying.

"Niat! The Emperor is here!" a man yelled from somewhere in the bustling shop.

'Not much pretense here either,' Warren mused.

A man apparently about Ztar's age came out from behind one of the food displays, wiping his hands on his apron. "Emperor!" he exclaimed joyously and hurried over to where the visitors stood. Ztar's outstretched arms embraced the smaller Turzent in a bear hug.

"It is good to see you my friend!" Ztar said releasing Niat from his embrace.

"Ah, yes, Ztar, it is good to see you also! So long it's been. What, a year now, or maybe longer?"

"Too long!"

"Sukja! The gods have been good to us – you both have returned safely from war," the shopkeeper warmly embraced the Ozjaerian.

"Old friend, you are a sight for war weary eyes!" Sukja returned.

Warren watched as the old friends exchanged their welcomes. First Atichi and now this Niat shifted his paradigm of the Emperor and his attendant. This would take time to digest.

"Let's not forget ourselves. I haven't been introduced," Niat turned to face Warren.

Ztar handled the introductions as he had before with Atichi. Warren immediately got a mix of feelings from Niat and he wasn't sure what he was picking up on. Friendly warmth and something else. It wasn't bad, but it was touch disconcerting.

"Archangel, I look forward to getting to know you and have you share in the hospitality that is my shop and home," Niat spread his arm widely and smiled.

Then the foodmonger turned back to Ztar. "Is this a social visit or business, my Emperor?"

"A little of both, actually. I was hoping we could find something special for this evening's meal. Delme will be preparing whatever we bring back."

Niat laughed heartily. "You needn't say more. We all know how persnickety Chef Delme is! Let's see what we can find that will satisfy his high standards."

The next half hour was spent carefully determining a dinner menu that featured ingredients that were at their peak. Warren watched and listened as Sukja and Niat particularly delved into the pros and cons of various food stuffs. Warren would rather just enjoy the eating, not go through meticulous choosings. He started to wander off from the threesome that was totally engaged in their culinary debate.

Several of the other shoppers looked at Warren inquisitively – likely trying to place him in their knowledge of Imperial species. They wouldn't find his species, but based on their sideways glances, he guessed what they were pondering. Warren had researched the Esserru, which were very close to Earth's mythical angels. He learned that the stories went back to antiquity in Turzent culture, just as the legend of angels did in Earth's history. While angels were linked closely with religion, the Esserru were not. It seemed from his readings that they were thought of as a long-lost, highly advanced race, more akin to the lost race of Atlantis or the aliens who legends said assisted the Mayans or ancient Egyptians. He also learned the word Esserru translated to "healer of souls."

What grabbed his attention the most was the striking similarity between angels, Esserru, and Warren. How many people here were wondering if Warren represented the basis for the legendary Esserru? It made him a touch uncomfortable as he caught whispered comments about who he was and what he was. But he was used to that – he had overheard similar comments his whole adult life – particularly when mutants were first coming out of the closet. Before he was the well-known billionaire mutant known as Warren Worthington III.

He pushed thinking aside and explored the shop and the countless food items it offered. The shop was jammed and in places the aisle was so narrow, Warren pulled his wings in tight for fear of knocking something over. At least people kept their distance, likely in response to the guard who stayed close by with a watchful eye on the crowd. Perusing the aisles, some foods looked quite temping, other items did not appeal in any way. The alienness of the fare drove home the fact that he was indeed very far from home. A pang of homesickness swept through him.

"Emperor, may I asked about your personal companion? That is what he is, yes? I don't misspeak?" Niat asked with some hesitation of Ztar.

"You are correct, my friend."

"From what world? I have never seen a being so magnificent!"

One thing Ztar and Niat had in common was their enjoyment of both genders and their preferences with each – whether actually in bed or from afar. Ztar knew Niat would find Archangel appealing, although since Niat's remarriage a couple years ago, his promiscuity had apparently ended.

"Earth System. I brought them into the Empire shortly before the war," Ztar explained while watching Archangel slowly peruse the wares of the shop a couple isles away.

"Earth – I know that name. Something to do with the start of the war, if I recall."

Ztar sighed. That was a misconception many people unfortunately held. "Not really. Just the excuse the Commonwealth used to declare war."

"What a travesty that was," Niat bemoaned, then "A whole world of such beings?" Niat's piqued desire transmitted to Ztar, but he knew nothing would come of it. Niat was totally devoted to his spouse.

"Sadly, no, Niat. He is unique as far as I know, even on his world."

Niat stopped mid-motion of selecting yet another food choice from the bins. "Truly?" He seemed amazed, but then added his hand-picked vegetables to their basket.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Just one and he's mine," Ztar said with a glint in his eyes.

"When I first saw him, my heart nearly stopped, Emperor. So much like an Esserru of legend."

"I felt the same," Ztar admitted.

Niat looked up at his Emperor. "You don't think he is-?"

Ztar cut him off, anticipating the same question Ztar had often asked himself. "I don't believe so, but anything is possible. Perhaps a long-ago genetic connection that was resurrected in Archangel."

"Such perfection! You are very fortunate, my Emperor," Niat grinned mischievously at the ruler as they concluded selecting the best of the best for the evening's meal.

A wave of sadness flowed through Ztar that he managed to hide from Niat. If only his and Archangel's relationship was as happy as the shopkeeper was imagining.

"Archangel, we are ready!" Sukja called out over a display case and down the aisle.

Promises of more frequent visits were made with the farewells. The walk back to the shuttle was uneventful, except for the greetings called to the Emperor. For the most part, the people of the neighborhood seemed to give the Emperor his space and privacy.

Rising above the city in the shuttle, Ztar looked at Sukja and Archangel.

"Tonight we feast on the meal Niat has planned for us. You will not be disappointed, Archangel. Niat is a skilled chef himself."

Warren nodded. Another dinner with the Emperor – he was so-o looking forward to it, he thought sarcastically. But likely the food would be superb. 'Be grateful for small favors,' he reminded himself.

###

The food _was_ superb! Warren thoroughly enjoyed every dish that Niat had planned and Chef Delme had prepared. As last time, Sukja took the lead in the dinner conversation, relieving Warren and the Emperor of that work. This time, Sukja took them on a journey of cuisines from across the Empire, expounding the perceived virtues and deficiencies of various culinary traditions.

Again, they dined in the Emperor's chambers. It actually made sense, as his table was much larger than the ones in either Sukja or Warren's chambers, which were comfortable for two, but three would be tight.

With the food and Dison consumed, table cleared, and his voice tired, Sukja bid the Emperor and Warren good night. That left Ztar and Warren standing alone together in the chambers. Warren wasn't quite sure what to do. He wanted to do exactly what Sukja did – say good-night and depart, but he had his contractual obligation to consider and Ztar had spared him for several nights running now.

Knowing what Archangel was thinking, Ztar placed an arm around his possession and pulled him close, but not too close. "I want you to stay here with me tonight, my Archangel," Ztar said gently.

Warren saw the smoldering in Ztar's eyes. The burning lust he had seen so many times wasn't there. This was more a look of a dreamy desire.

"Here?" Warren asked. Staying in the Emperor chambers would be a first.

"Yes," he didn't offer an explanation. Warren could only guess about his reason. "Nightwear is in my bath." Then Ztar ever so softly kissed his lips and then moved Warren with a gentle pressure on the back toward the bathroom.

Warren was perplexed. Why bother changing? He'd just have Warren out of the clothes in minutes anyway – if it took that long! But he did as instructed. Obeying was often easier than trying to figure out the Emperor's reasoning.

When Warren left the bathroom, Ztar was kneeling in the bed, changed and waiting. Warren dutifully climbed in. The bed was larger than the one in Warren chambers, but just as soft. Ztar pulled Warren toward his chest and stole another sensual kiss, the Emperor's hands moving from Warren's arms, to his back, to the place where the wings emerged. As the kiss continued, one hand followed a wing arch tenderly while the other held a firm grip on the second wing base.

Ztar's moved his mouth from Archangel's and kissed his way down the neck. He pressed one wing from behind against Archangel's shoulder putting it within reach. Ztar loved the soft, silky feel of the feathers on his lips and he ran them across the part of the wing he could reach. The shivers he'd come to expect ran through Archangel's body. Again, Ztar moved to his companion's mouth, brushing lips against lips, but not to kiss – only to titillate.

Ztar felt the heat in his body ignite and he knew it had to back off, as much as he hated to. 'This was as far as things will go this night,' he was firm with himself.

Ztar settled back on his haunches and looked at Archangel. From the distant look in the blue eyes, Ztar knew Archangel had once again detached from the Ztar's attentions. Ztar waited while Archangel processed that things had come to a halt. Archangel's eyes refocused on him with a questioning gaze.

"I'm tired tonight, my Archangel. Let's just get some rest. You will sleep here." The look on Archangel's face made Ztar smile – complete puzzlement!

"You want me to sleep in _your_ bed?" Warren needed to clarify as this was another first.

"Yes," Ztar replied simply with a brush of his hand across Warren's cheek. Then Ztar got under the covers and laid down, his back to Warren..

Warren was surprised – actually shocked – and relieved. How could he be getting off so easy? Something was definitely amiss! But he'd gladly accept whatever it was that had given him four nights without Ztar forcing him to have sex. Was he still nervous after Warren's plunge? Warren didn't think so – the Emperor was too good a telepath to have not discovered it wasn't an intended suicide attempt.

Warren would think things through more carefully tomorrow. Right now, he'd take the offer to sleep. While not happy that he had to sleep in Ztar's bed, he obediently got comfortable under the covers, back to Ztar. Despite himself, Warren fell asleep more quickly than he would have guessed.

The Emperor laid awake until he heard the slow, deep breathing that signaled Archangel had drifted off. Four nights without the pleasures only found with the unique human. Was he strong enough to see this plan through? Could he control himself? Ztar fervently hoped so – for his sake and his Archangel's.

###

Warren woke with Ztar against his back, wings pressed in between – uncomfortable. When he tried to move, he realized Ztar was actually lying partially on the bottom wing, so he was pinned unless Ztar moved or he risked pulling out feathers.

He rolled and gave Ztar a push with his elbow. "Ztar. I need to get up!"

The Emperor was already half awake when he heard Archangel prompt him. He obliged, freeing the wing. Both men sat up in unison.

"Good morning, my Archangel." Ztar said softly, turning to face the human. "I trust you slept well?"

Warren watched the Emperor suspiciously. He had been so unpredictable these last many days. First, Ztar's aggression the first night on the Mi-Lartui, followed by four nights of more typical Ztar, then nothing for three nights, and finally Ztar's strange behavior last night. If Ztar intended to keep Warren guessing, he certainly was accomplishing that! Maybe the Emperor would try to initiate something this morning.

Instead, the Emperor said "I have a busy day. If you wish to take a shuttle to explore more of the Sat'rey, I've given Sukja permission to join you. Or you can stay here and read the book Atichi gave you. The gardens have many quiet spots to enjoy while reading, or whatever you wish. The day is yours."

With that, Ztar left the bed and headed into the bathroom.

'Huh,' was all Warren could think as a response at the closing of the bathroom door.

A glance at the clock said it was very early morning, plenty of time to catch the sunrise. He headed back to his own chambers and got ready for the day. Reading the book did appeal as a way to spend what looked to be another perfect summer day in the Imperial Valley. It would help him think of something other than Ztar. As he still struggled a bit with the written Turzent language, the book would also a good learning tool.

After his morning flight and breakfast, Warren spent rest of the day alternating between lounging by the reflecting pool, reading Atichi's book in the gardens, and leaping to the heavens whenever the urge hit him. "Times Ago" was a fascinating read and Warren was drawn into the story at the first page. Set in Ozjaer's equivalent of medieval times, it told the tale of a feisty peasant family forced into servitude for a debt they could never repay. Rather than looking at their plight as a curse, they rose above it and fought for dignity in a life where none was given to people of their class.

When Warren put the book down for the day, the eldest son was being forced into their overlord's service as partial payment of that debt. He was actually a little shaken by the parallels to his own circumstances. Almost too much of a coincidence, but then Atichi had said it reminded her of _her_ life. Warren promised himself he'd visit Atichi again to discuss the book and hear her story.

In the afternoon, he further explored the palace grounds and outbuildings. The complex was very large and buildings for all different purposes were scattered around the property. Sukja would have been impressed of all the questions Warren put to the palace staff as they were going about the daily responsibilities. Sukja had often teased Warren his first year on the Mi-Lartui about his insatiable curiosity. What's this building for? Where does the staff live? Who's responsible for procurement? How many shuttles does the Emperor have? How many people live on the estate? Does anyone commute from the city every day? And so on. Most of the staff was very accommodating – stopping their work to answer him politely. Some though were less hospitable, but Warren didn't take offense. These people were working, after all, and he wasn't.

Throughout the day, Warren ate when he felt hungry, visiting the kitchen for several light snacks, not feeling like staying in his chambers. He was too antsy. After his fourth visit, Chef Delme finally could hold his tongue no longer.

"Archangel, is grazing throughout the day normal for your kind or are you intentionally trying to disrupt the smooth operation of my kitchens?" Delme said in a stern voice, looking at the human from across his immaculate kitchen as one of Delme's lesser cooks prepared a small sandwich for Warren in the corner.

"Perhaps they're not as smooth running as you say, if my small interruptions are causing difficulties," Warren chided back, smiling at the chef, hoping to assuage his irritation with humor. Risky, but worth a try.

Warren had learned that Chef Delme was from the Mor System and his species was called Alcab. The species, if Delme was typical, looked remarkably like a cross between a Shi'ar and Sukja's species. Coincidence? The shock of bright orange hair would make the Chef stand out in the typically dark-haired populace of the Yaunra neighborhood Warren had seen yesterday. Niat would see the Emperor's chef coming from a block away.

"Let's hope this is not a daily routine or I'll have to assign you a personal cook!" the Chef grumbled, but appeared to be holding back a smirk.

Warren smiled charmingly at Delme, as the cook handed over his sandwich. "Thank you, Chef and company!" and Warren left the kitchen to enjoy his afternoon snack. Warren thought he might actually like the finicky chef, despite Delme's gruff demeanor.

As the end of the afternoon approached, Ztar slipped into Warren's mind. 'Archangel, I'd like you to join me for dinner. We'll eat on the patio overlooking the gardens.'

Warren had successfully avoided thinking too much that day about the Emperor's behavior swings. He would continue to watch for manipulation with a wary eye. As long as Ztar was not abusing him, life at the palace tolerable for now, Warren concluded.

At the appointed time, Warren stepped out onto the patio. It was an expansive patio, obviously designed to be a setting for palace events. The view of the gardens was perfect as the patio sat at an elevation several feet higher than the gardens, offering a splendid view of the colorful vegetation. The wall of windows allowed guests to look back into the formal reception hall in all its glory.

The sun was low, casting long shadows across the gardens. Because the setting sun was on the other side of the palace, patio lights were already glowing in the palace's shadow.

Warren hesitated when he saw only the Emperor at the table. Was Sukja coming? Warren hoped so! Otherwise, the evening's meal may be very uncomfortable. Warren seated himself across from the Emperor.

"Good evening, my Archangel!" The greeting was warm as Ztar smiled.

"Emperor," Warren replied without emotion. "Is Sukja coming?"

A server was immediately at the table, pouring something that wasn't Dison or Raimami. This drink was a deep ruby color, reminding Warren of Merlot wine.

"Not tonight. He is attending to arrangements for an Imperial event we're holding in four weeks." Ztar waited, wanting Archangel to ask the obvious.

Warren knew the Emperor wanted him to inquire about the event. "If Sukja's in charge, I'm sure everything will be perfect," was all he was willing to give Ztar.

"I want you to assist him in the planning," Ztar leaned back in his chair, bringing the glass of ruby liquid to his mouth.

"What?"

"Sukja said you had complained of being bored. So you can help Sukja with the planning."

"That's ridiculous! What do I know about planning Imperial events?" Warren was decidedly unhappy with this new assignment. It reeked of manipulation – get him sucked into this life. Ztar had long ago told him he would only demand his time at night and Warren's days would be his own. Ztar had kept his word while Warren lived on the Mi-Lartui, but that arrangement was being eroded away more each day in this "new life" at the palace.

"I did tell you life here would be different than on the Mi-Lartui. Here you are Imperial staff in name and duty. Your duties can begin now by assisting Sukja with the Imperial reception." The Emperor took another sip of the beverage before setting the glass down, never taking his eyes off Archangel.

"We have returned to Sat'rey and protocol dictates we hold a grand reception. And I _want_ to hold the reception," Ztar held Archangel's eyes in a steady gaze. "This is an important event. All of Sat'rey's dignitaries and important families will be in attendance, as well as my top advisors and representatives from across the Empire. Since the end of the war, we've not had the opportunity to celebrate at the palace. It is past due."

Warren contemplated the words while taking of sip of the beverage absentmindedly. It did taste like wine – quite good wine, in fact. Not too dry or too sweet.

"This is called sanui," Ztar said picking up his glass again. "Many varieties and all quite delightful. This particular variety is called Nannchi-Rua and comes from Sat'rey's Bayistera territory."

Warren was busy thinking angrily about what Ztar was telling him to do. He obviously had two choices – perform his assignment willingly or perform his assignment unwillingly, because in the end, Ztar would get his way regardless of what Warren wanted to do.

"Archangel, you are mistaken," Ztar said firmly.

Warren knew instantly that the Emperor had been reading his thoughts again.

"A little privacy would be appreciated!" He told the Emperor that his first night back on the Mi Lartui and he'd keep saying it.

"I give you more privacy than you realize. But your thoughts at this moment are quite…intense. I will not use Earth as a threat for you to perform this duty. I will leave the decision with you. However, I believe first, that you'll _enjoy_ the challenge as it will give you an opportunity to learn much about our customs and how the palace functions. Second, you and Sukja will work well together. Third, Sukja will welcome the assistance. While the palace staff is extremely capable, their authority and responsibilities only go so far. Imperial staff, namely Sukja, is ultimately responsible for the success of the event."

Ztar paused and sipped more sanui as the server set dinner down in front of the pair.

"And fourth, you complained of being bored. For the next four weeks, that will not be the case if you accept this duty," Ztar finished.

Warren rolled Ztar's reasoning over in his mind. The Emperor made valid points. Bottom line, though, he was being asked to willingly take a step into this new life and he did not want to. That galled him. It was far better when he was being forced.

"Did your other whores perform these duties?" Warren asked harshly. He wanted to be angry, damn it!

Ztar set down his glass and locked eyes with Archangel. He allowed himself to read the thinking behind the cold words. It so wounded Ztar when Archangel referred to himself as nothing more than a concubine, yet Ztar could easily see how that would be the human's perspective. 'One more injury to overcome.' He added it to the growing list.

Right now, though, the conversation was getting out of control and Ztar hoped he could bring Archangel down from his anger. "Archangel, if this request is more than you can handle right now, I understand. I am not demanding you do this. I meant it when I said the choice is yours. Think about it, is all I ask. Truly, Archangel – you choose!" Ztar implored as gently and non-threateningly as he could muster.

Warren's read of the Emperor body language could detect no falseness in what he said. The choice really was his?

"And if I choose not to be involved, no ramifications?" Just to be clear.

"None. Use your best judgment as to what you're ready to take on. If you need more time to do nothing, then take that time. Until then, I will only ask for your time at night – as I had said four years ago."

This had nothing to do about Warren being ready. Ztar missed the point entirely, or chose to sidestep it. Warren decided to let his anger go – for now, anyway. He didn't feel like fighting.

"Whatever," was Warren's way to sidestep giving an answer.

Ztar mentally breathed a sigh of relief.

When Ztar started eating his meal, Warren did likewise and thought about what Ztar had just said. He would always be wary of the Emperor's intentions, but at least he wasn't backed into a corner again.

As Warren simply listened, Ztar talked about the big event with enthusiasm. Ztar actually seemed to be looking forward to the party. It was disconcerting to see the man who had been the source of his torment excited about a social event of all things. Warren found the contradiction disconcerting between his image of the Emperor and what he had seen the past couple days. Just like yesterday in Yaunra had forced an alteration in his paradigm in spite of Warren's attempt to hold on to the image he had formed over four long years.

###

It was late when Ztar and Warren finished dessert and their second glass of sanui and made their way to the private wing of the palace. Ztar did not let Warren hesitate outside the door of his chambers, he kept them walking past and to Ztar's chamber door.

Warren resigned himself to another night in the Emperor's bed, the one area where Warren was not allowed a choice. Once again, Warren changed into his nightwear being kept in Ztar's chambers.

Once both men were in bed, Ztar took his usual position astride Archangel. He had Archangel spread his wings wide across the expanse of the bed and laid his hands atop the feathers appendages, stroking and caressing. He brought his lips to Archangel's and brushed them across the human's, but did not kiss him. Ztar sat back up and looked longingly down at the beauty that was Archangel. Golden hair, flawless ivory skin, long-lashed crystal-blue eyes, perfection of body, and white wings spread in all their glory. He looked like a god! And Ztar wanted him more than he could describe.

Ztar leaned back down and explored Archangel's mouth, deeply and sensually. Ztar allowed himself ten minutes to take in the pleasures of the human – five minutes longer than the previous night. He slowly built some heat in Archangel before he backed off. When he pulled away, Archangel trembled slightly as his body came down from the arousal. Then Ztar said it was time to sleep.

Warren body was shaky from Ztar's skilled touch and then release. He was confused and annoyed. Why doesn't he just do it and be done with it? Ztar was toying with him! If Ztar wanted to play games, he could hold out indefinitely, he told himself. Or least he hoped he could. Unfortunately, the Turzent was extremely skilled in arousing him without his consent. Warren's body seemed to have a separate will when it came to Ztar's manipulations – it simply would not listen to his head. Warren laid there in anger. It took quite awhile for sleep to come.

Ztar let the conflicted emotions in Archangel flow over him through the empathic link until the human finally drifted off. The anger wasn't what Ztar wanted. Arousal was. Could he successfully train Archangel's body to long for his touch? He hoped that physical longing would eventually lead to other changes within the human. The challenge was to create the physical desire without so angering the human in the meantime that he sabotaged his own efforts. Time would tell how well Ztar could walk that fine line.

###


	3. Chapter 3

_Heartfelt thanks to my readers! The number of visitors to this story and the renewed interest in "Sacrifice" is encouraging and it would be great if a few more of you would review. But I understand if you choose not to – I just hope you're enjoying the read._

_If you're so inclined to review, let me know if I'm keeping the characters and their turmoils interesting and realistic. _

_And now, our story continues…_

**Chapter Three**

Warren had much to consider and the contemplation started immediately upon waking early in Ztar chambers. The Emperor was still asleep. Warren carefully rose and slipped silently out to return to his own chambers. His thoughts kept jumping from what was happening – or _not_ happening as it were – in Ztar's bed to Ztar's offer that Warren assist with the party.

The big event was an easier subject to tackle, and Warren focused on that while he ate a zante and sipped on the strong tea he'd come to enjoy once again since returning to life with Ztar. To help or not help? Easiest enough choice, you'd think, but Warren's instincts told him this was an effort to modify his behavior and attitude. Still in all, going into it knowing that was half the battle. He _did_ need something to fill his days. You can't lounge around the pool and peruse the gardens forever. Yet it was just another step toward accepting he'd not be returning to his old life, and Warren wasn't sure he could admit that quite yet. On the other hand, Ztar had been right – he'd learn much in the four weeks of planning. That appealed to his curious nature.

God, why is everything so difficult?!

'No need to make a decision today,' he finally concluded. Just go with what felt right later on.

He'd been watching out the balcony doors as the sky shifted from gray to the soft colors of predawn, to the now vivid colors just before sun-up. It was good that his chambers were on the sunrise side of the palace as early morning was his favorite time of day.

He opened the door and stepped out onto the balcony. Cool, moist air greeted him. Closing his eyes, he listened to the sounds of the land and sky awakening. It beckoned to Warren at a level he couldn't name. 'Come, be part of me as I wake,' it called to him.

Warren spread his wings and in one powerful beat he was airborne. The joy of flight spread from wing tip to wing tip as he climbed higher into the fresh morning air. This is where he belonged, this was his true home.

He pushed all other thoughts aside and simply enjoyed being what he was – a creature of the skies. Through all the years, all the fellow mutants he'd met, only a rare few could empathize with his need. Even Xavier, the greatest telepath Earth had ever known, didn't seem to fully comprehend this elemental need. Usually, only his fellow ferals understood, each having their own non-human basal drives. Wolverine, in spite of their rocky friendship, came the closest to really understanding. Flight was not an option; it was as much a necessity as eating for Warren.

As he climbed higher, the colors of the sunrise on the scattered clouds shifted and blended. Suddenly, Warren had climbed high enough to meet the sun and its rays washed over him. While the land below was still shrouded in gray, he was bathed in golden light. If he reached out, he could almost touch the sun…

The rest of his morning flight, he dipped and rose lazily as thermals began to form from the warming land and air. It was much later than he intended when Warren finally alighted on his balcony. But what did it really matter – he had nothing else to do all day. It was then that the decision became clear. He would help with the Emperor's gala.

Deciding to talk to Sukja later about the big event, Warren grabbed Atichi's book and headed to one of his favorite spots in the gardens. It was secluded and he could not see any of the palace or other buildings from that location. Trees and tall shrubs created a secret oasis in the midst of the expansive landscaping. He felt wonderfully alone there.

Sitting on the ground with the bench leg between his wings, he could fairly comfortably lean back. He opened the book to where he left off, but it stayed resting on this lap. His mind turned to the Emperor and his odd behavior in bed. Had his plunge so frightened Ztar that he now hesitated to push Warren? Likely not the case. As he had concluded before, the telepath would know his thoughts about the episode and determine Warren was not on the brink of causing his own death.

So what was the Emperor up to? He'd told Warren a few times now that he loved him, but what could this man know about love? Only a twisted form of possessive love, like Sukja had admitted. Warren was a possession that provided Ztar the sexual release he needed. But was he attempting to move beyond simple sex? What more did he want of Warren? To what end? Certainly the Turzent knew that Warren could never love him back, let alone even care about him – that would be a ludicrous fantasy!

The past couple nights felt more like the Emperor wanted to start over with him. After Warren's fall from the sky, Ztar said he wanted to make things right…to erase the horrors. Did Ztar actually believe he could do that? Or was Ztar simply attempting to manipulate him into some new programming that better suited life at the palace? Perhaps Ztar wanted a companion that _appeared_ to care for him. To project the illusion that Ztar and Warren were a happy couple.

Warren shook his head. 'Happy couple. As if _that's_ ever going to happen!'

Yet it made a lot of sense. Life here wasn't isolated like on the Mi-Lartui. It was more exposed to observation and opinion. Atichi and Niat, for example. How much did Ztar care about what others thought of the private side of this life? Warren had no way of judging that, so he left it as a possibility.

Another possibility was that Ztar needed more than just a bedmate and he was looking for something more meaningful. He knew Ztar appreciated Warren's intelligence and quick mind, Ztar had told him on a couple occasions. Did he want for a confidante – a _friend_?

'Strike two, Ztar. That's also not going to happen.'

Perhaps Ztar just enjoyed toying with Warren. Keep the human guessing and doing what Warren was doing right now – trying to figure out what Ztar was up to. It might feed the ego side of the Emperor to know that Warren spent so much time and energy thinking about the him and his maneuverings.

'You may get me on this one,' Warren admitted to himself.

That just didn't feel right, though. Ztar hadn't shown himself to be someone who toys. In this case, it would cost him sexual gratification in order to hold back and tease. But perhaps three years of war had changed Ztar in ways Warren didn't see yet. He would hold the idea in reserve.

Then there was the conversation with Sukja about the Emperor slowly changing. Scenario one and two played into that, so more weight was added to those possibilities.

'Time to dwell on something else,' Warren told himself as he tired of trying to make sense of Ztar's behavior. He knew he had a habit of either stuffing his feelings and thoughts or going to opposite direction and over-analyzing. Best to give it a rest for awhile.

He picked up "Times Ago" and re-entered the world contained in the pages. The peasant family's son was now part of the overlord's guards. Brave service to his master would ensure his family's safety, the young man was told.

Warren closed the book at the end of the chapter and returned to the palace looking for the attendant. He found Sukja in his study/office down the hall from his chambers, door open. The Ozjaerian was so absorbed in his PI, he didn't notice Warren in the doorway until Warren spoke.

"Sukja, do you have a minute?"

"Of course! Come in and have a seat," Sukja offered with a smile. "What time is it anyway?"

"Late morning," Warren answered imprecisely, taking a seat in the chair in front of Sukja's large work area.

"Time goes quickly when you have much to do! Four weeks to plan an Imperial grand reception is hardly enough. Another week, I begged. But no, Ztar was firm – four weeks!" Sukja shook his head, but chuckled lightly.

"Actually, that's why I'm here. I'd like to help," Warren offered and then added quickly, "To keep myself busy." He wanted it to be understood that he wasn't doing this for Sukja or the Emperor, but for himself.

Sukja cocked his head slightly at the human. 'Well, now. That was quick! Thought he'd take much longer to come around to the idea, if ever!' Sukja considered.

"As much as I appreciate the offer, Archangel, and don't take this the wrong way, but are you sure? I need you to be, because much rides on the success of this event. I need to know I can depend on you. That the success of the event is top priority – not just something to keep you from boredom. You may think this is just a party, but no Imperial event is just a party. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Warren was surprised at the seriousness in which Sukja spoke. This event was of obvious importance to the Ozjaerian.

Warren leaned forward. "I'm not naïve to the undertones of high-profile events, Sukja. My whole life has been a high-profile event. I understand how simple choices can convey intended and unintended messages. Unlike back home, I don't know what those messages might be here – that's where I _am_ naïve. That's why you will make all the decisions – I'll simply follow your instructions and run everything past you." Warren summarized his assessment of his role.

Sukja smiled. Unlike so many of Ztar's past companions, Archangel was so well balanced. Intelligent, but not arrogantly so; proud but not prideful. Strong-willed, without being stubborn. Pragmatic. He would be the perfect assistant for this undertaking that had to be pulled off in fewer weeks than Sukja preferred. From what he knew about Archangel, his background of wealth and high society was the ideal fit for the task, as long as Archangel applied those skills appropriately, knowing his limitations.

"Very well!" Sukja was extremely pleased. "Are you ready to get started? Four weeks is precious little time."

Warren nodded.

Sukja tapped a few times on his PI. "There, you have access to the reception planning data. On your PI, just search for Grand Reception." Then he smiled one of his sly grins. "Just in case you accepted the assignment, I had already prepared a list of tasks for you. You'll see those on the main planning grid. As you complete each item, update the grid. But as you said, make no final decisions without my approval."

Again Warren nodded his agreement. "I'd guess you already have the guest list finalized, given the short timeframe."

"Indeed. That was task one considering the guests' full schedules and the distance some will need to travel. But when you send an invitation from the Emperor, few will even contemplate turning it down!" The Ozjaerian eyes twinkled at that thought.

"That certainly makes it easier to plan – no-shows aren't a worry." Warren favored Sukja with a small smile.

Sukja loved it when Archangel smiled. It was a rare thing and lit up the room when Archangel did part with one. He was such a beautiful being. If Sukja wasn't strictly opposite-sex inclined, he would have been seriously tempted over these past four years. Even given that, there were times…

Sukja laughed, "Yes, definitely takes the guesswork out of guest counts. One point to remember throughout every detail is the theme the Emperor has chosen – New Beginnings. He wants this event to not only celebrate peace, but to usher in a new era for his empire."

"The Imperial democracy he spoke to me about…"

"Yes, although he hasn't made a final decision, it is possible he will announce his plan at the reception."

That got Warren's attention. "Hence, possible historic significance for this event."

Sukja nodded. Now Warren understood Sukja's seriousness regarding the party.

"We need to plan as if that is going to happen. And if it does not – if Ztar decides it is too soon to make that proclamation – then the event will be one of the best non-historic parties in Imperial records!" he said, chuckling lightly. Then he added more seriously, "That whole topic is confidential, if you didn't already know."

The attendant rose. "I need a refill on my Tanquer tea, then we can go over where I am in the planning and review your tasks. Do you want a cup?" Sukja asked as he walked over to the beverage station in his office.

"Sure."

Once the tea was poured, the two men reviewed the very long list of arrangements to be completed and by when. Warren realized then why Sukja had wanted more time. Four weeks was definitely pushing it. Warren was feeling a bit overwhelmed – and he only had a small list compared to Sukja.

"I think that will do for a start for you," Sukja concluded.

"For a _start_?"

"Every week, sometimes every day, I'll have new tasks for you."

"Sukja, honestly, if I wasn't assisting you, who would be? There's no way that one person could get through this list with reasonable care in four weeks. I mean, you're good, but…"

Sukja leaned toward Archangel and grinned. "Then I guess it's good that you decided to help," was all the attendant would say.

###

Ztar was more than pleased when Sukja reported that Archangel had decided to help with the grand reception. Maybe, just maybe, they were making some progress toward Archangel accepting life at the palace. Archangel may never be truly happy here, but perhaps he could be settled. Ztar would take that much, if that was as much as he could have.

His mind turned to an even more significant event. The Emperor had scheduled another meeting of his inner circle to review progress and iron out remaining major issues for the new Imperial constitution. That meeting was coming up in a few days. At the end of that day, he hoped to pass off the conceptual drafts to his law writers. Once that was done, his vision for a new Empire would become more susceptible to being leaked out. That could lead to dangerous times. There were those who would not so easily embrace a freer Empire. People do unpredictable things when they fear losing power and control. Ztar would need to be very watchful, as would those that supported him.

His PI reminded him he hadn't yet reviewed the various daily staff reports, and it was already mid-day. Ztar pushed aside the more stimulating thoughts of Archangel and his new Empire to focus on the routine and delved into the status reports.

###

That afternoon while eating a light lunch on his balcony, Warren again reviewed the various tasks and their timelines Sukja had charged him with completing. First and foremost, Warren was responsible for ensuring that every detail in his care fell in line with the theme, New Beginnings. He was to ruthlessly enforce that.

Task one was to discuss food and beverage with Chef Delme. Delme would then work with the Emperor's favorite culinary procurer, Niat, for what needed to be brought in from across the Empire.

Warren felt he was completely unqualified for the assignment, but Sukja said to trust Delme's expertise. Once Warren armed the Chef with the guest list, his responsibility was to ask the right questions. Is there a favorite item for each of the most honored guests and what is it? Was there any dish being suggested that may offend another guest? Were the food choices appropriate for the occasion? Every decision regarding the appetizers was to be documented in draft plan to be submitted. Sukja would review and give his approval before any actions were put into motion.

Another area of responsibility was the serving staff. This meant working with the Turzent equivalent of the head butler. She was Housemaster Rja and according to Sukja, ruled her staff with an iron fist. They either performed to perfection or they didn't serve long at the palace. "Warren, you're on your own with her!" was all Sukja would say, laughing. Rja also oversaw the housekeeping staff, which would be busy with the most honored guests that were invited to stay at the palace before and after the event.

Warren was also charged with coordinating with the palace grounds staff. The reception would be held at the peak of Imperial Valley's summer – the dry season. Steps needed to be taken now to ensure the gardens and grounds looked their best by the time of the event. Head groundskeeper was Srandrez Moit'de, whom Warren hadn't yet met.

"He's much more comfortable with plants than people, but no one is better," Sukja had said of the groundskeeper. "You can usually find him either in the groundskeeper building or somewhere out on the property. He tends to keep to himself."

There were other areas that Warren would be coordinating, but these were the ones to be attended to first. Reviewing on his PI the complex matrix of details Sukja had mapped out, Warren shook his head. What had he been thinking? It was quite apparent his days of leisure had come to an abrupt halt for at least four weeks.

Finishing his meal, he decided there was no time like the present to meet with the Chef. Much of the kitchen's activity should have slowed as Warren had eaten quite late. The Chef was at his planning station when Warren entered his turf.

"Are you here for another light snack already?" the Chef greeted, barely raising his head from his PI.

"Actually, Chef, I wanted to discuss the grand reception."

"Did I forget the appointment you scheduled for this discussion?" the Chef inquired with an annoyed tone, still not looking up.

"I did not make one. My apologies." This wasn't starting off at all as he hoped.

"Then perhaps you should do so and then we'll talk. Do I look like a man with time to just drop everything at your whim?"

"I would hope the significance of the event would make that unnecessary." Warren was now a touch annoyed himself.

Delme looked up from his work and stared directly into Warren's eyes. "The significance of the event dictates that an appointment would be necessary. This is not something we can plan in a few minutes between lunch and preparing my staff and kitchens for this evening's meals. We'll need at least an hour of uninterrupted time," the Chef said icily. "For that, I need time to adjust my schedule."

Warren backed off and tried another approach.

"Chef, I see now that I was naïve, but that is the extent of my offensive. I meant you no disrespect. Please accept my apologies. I'm trying to learn as I go – this is new to me. I will make the appointment and I hope you will forgive my faux pas." Warren gave the Chef his best humbled look.

Delme eyed Warren for several seconds as if determining whether the human was feeding him a line of bull or was sincerely apologetic. Finally, he sighed.

"Very well, for the sake of the event and to serve my Emperor, we will meet now. However, in the future know that I will not be so forgiving!"

"Yes, Chef. Thank you for taking the time," Warren sighed silently.

And they dove into the conceptual ideas the Chef had already developed, based on what he knew of the event's theme and tentative list of guests the Chef himself had anticipated. When Warren gave him the actual guest list, the two were remarkably similar. Warren was relieved – it appeared Delme was truly a master of his trade and Warren had little to worry about with the Chef. Based on their discussion, the Chef would present a draft menu for Warren and Sukja to review in a couple days.

Task one begun. Task two, the groundskeeper, would need to wait until tomorrow. There were several other smaller items Sukja asked Warren to specifically complete yet that day and by then the dinner hour would be upon him.

###

Ztar's third night of his privately proclaimed new start with Archangel went very much as the second night, but longer. He gave himself twenty minutes of sensuality focused on Archangel's pleasure. When he sensed that Archangel was getting too agitated, he backed off and skillfully took most of the edge off the come down.

The past four years, Ztar had taken from Archangel most of the time, and only occasionally focused on creating pleasures for the human. Even when he did pleasure Archangel, he had to suppress the human's aversions to allow Archangel to enjoy their encounters. If he could teach Archangel what he could do, how wonderful Ztar could make him feel, he hoped Archangel would come to crave and enjoy his touch without the need for suppression.

Yet he knew Archangel was growing frustrated with the change. Ztar read the questions and attempts to figure out what he was up to. Archangel had several theories going and it was fascinating to eavesdrop on his thoughts when they centered on the night's activities. But, for the most part, Ztar left the human to his ruminations. Ztar had chosen his course of action and thus far nothing that Archangel speculated was outside what Ztar anticipated. He would stay the course.

###

As usual, Warren was up before dawn and greeted the sunrise from high above the palace. After he had ridden the rising air for sometime and quenched his desire for flight for that morning, Warren spiraled lazily down toward the palace grounds. As he approached, his keen eyesight spotted someone in the one of the farthest corners of the landscaped gardens working in a planting bed.

Flying closer, he believed it was Srandrez Moit'de, the head groundskeeper. Warren had brought up his image the day before on his PI since he hadn't yet met the gardener. According to his bio, Moit'de was native Sat'rey. Dark-hair, medium-brown skin, smallish in stature, a face somewhat flatter than a human's and smaller, black eyes with no whites, with hints of something perhaps reptilian-like in his overall appearance.

The man didn't seem to notice Warren as he landed a few yards away, but obviously had when the gardener spoke without turning in Warren's direction.

"Good morning, Archangel. Beautiful morning for flying!" The voice was almost melodic and heavily accented.

"Good morning, sir."

"Znethia love morning also," the gardener said nodding toward the plants he was tenderly trimming. "They best in morning, but afternoon heat – not good!" The man glanced back at Warren – it was definitely Moit'de.

Moit'de's Turzent was broken – apparently not his native language. If this was any indication, Warren may need his translator for any in-depth conversations.

Warren walked toward Moit'de. "I'd like to set an appointment to talk about the grand reception." Warren wasn't about to repeat the mistake with the Chef.

Moit'de stopped his work and looked up at Warren in what appeared to be inquisitively, if Warren read the expression correctly. "Appointment?"

"Yes, so we can talk about the arrangements."

The gardener shook his head ever so slightly. Then he patted the ground next to him. "Here."

Warren knelt down next to Moit'de as he believed the man wanted. Then Moit'de handed him his shears.

"Cut this spot, above node. Help znethia bloom better." The gardener pointed to where Warren was to snip.

"Yes, good. Now here…here…"

Warren followed Moit'de instructions and in a few minutes they finished trimming the plant he'd been working on when Warren interrupted.

Leaning back on his heels, Moit'de looked at Warren. "You good with znethias."

Warren smiled at the gardener. "Thanks." He paused before speaking again. "About the reception…"

"Talk now."

"No appointment?"

The gardener waved his hand. "No – no appointment." Then he eyed Warren almost knowingly. "Chef Delme?"

Warren nodded affirmatively.

"Explain much."

Moit'de rose and Warren did likewise and followed the gardener to a near-by bench. "We have appointment here," and Moit'de sat down.

Warren didn't have his PI and really wasn't prepared for meeting with the gardener here and now.

"My PI has all the details-" Warren tried to explain, but the gardener interrupted.

"Details here," he pointed his head. "No need for PI."

Maybe the gardener didn't need a PI, but Warren did. But he plunged ahead anyway.

"We have less than four weeks. The theme is New Beginnings."

The gardener contemplated for a moment. "Ah yes. Coax mentens and apitmances early. They be symbol for new life. Curte-markimoz good, too. Mean awakenings! Isour…yes! Show renewal and life. Four weeks?"

Warren nodded.

"Can be done. Much to plan. Where?"

"The formal reception hall, patio, and gardens."

"No other place?"

"Not that I've been told."

"Shuttle pad?"

"I hadn't thought to ask, but that would make sense."

"Shuttle pad to palace entrance, most certainly."

Warren watched the gardener as he planned in his mind.

"Guest rooms?"

"Yes," Warren confirmed. "Something simple though."

"Ztar like simple – not overdone," Moit'de added. "Four weeks – peak heat. Will be challenge! Pray for cool summer, Archangel," The gardener said patting him on the knee. "Many plants will not be so happy, but we help them."

"You will draft a plan for me to give to Sukja for approval?"

"Ah yes, if Sukja want, I do. Better just talk though. PIs not good, but understand."

Warren was somewhat struggling to grasp the meaning of Moit'de's words. If he got it, the gardener wasn't keen on PIs, but would do as asked.

"Two days then for a plan for Sukja?"

"Two mornings. Meet here, this time. Need to check znethia."

The two men sat quietly for a few seconds. Then the gardener spoke.

"_You_ ready?" he asked looking Warren in the eyes.

"What do you mean?" Warren was puzzled.

"You ready all this?" the gardener swept his arm in an all-encompassing gesture.

"I don't understand," he confessed, still not completely sure of the gardener's meaning.

"This world? See you flying mornings. Sad flying sometimes."

Warren's stomach lurched. The gardener had picked that up just from seeing him in the air? Warren's eyes filled with tears suddenly without his consent. He blinked them back with effort.

"Two mornings, back here," and he stood. He didn't mean to be rude, but needed to leave the gardener before he couldn't stop the tears that threatened.

Moit'de stood also. "Two mornings, yes."

Warren felt the gardener watch him as he sprung into the air. The gardener words had hit hard. Sad flying? He had thought he was happiest when in the skies. Had his life with Ztar taken more from him than he had realized? He pushed away thinking about the gardener's observation, as the urge to break down almost wrest control. He hadn't really cried in a long time over his plight. That release he had stifled ages ago. Yes, a few tears escaped him now and then, but that was all.

Landing on his balcony, Warren turned his attention instead to the next person he needed to meet with – the palace butler, Rja. Her profile showed Rja to be full-blooded Turzent – same species at Ztar. From her bio photo, she looked like the female version of Ztar, only much smaller. Same black-crimson hair and gold-flecked brown eyes. Rja also didn't look like someone you'd want to mess with.

From the computer, Warren commed Rja's office. She wasn't in, but he left a request to meet at her earliest convenience. Then he updated the event matrix showing that both the chef and the gardener would have draft plans submitted over the next two days. He reviewed the various miscellaneous tasks Sukja had assigned him and those he could complete that morning, he did. By lunch, his to-do list was decidedly shorter. Then the computer informed him that Rja had responded and would meet with him early that afternoon.

Warren had forgone his mid-morning snack and was quite hungry by now. He decided to take advantage of the standard lunch prepared for palace staff by dropping by the kitchen and picking up the meal. Grabbing Atichi's book from his chambers, he sat on his balcony that hung above the gardens patio to enjoy another chapter while eating. Palace staff sat below, eating and chatting.

Warren closed his eyes a moment and listened to the voices from below. He picked up snatches of conversations.

"Did you see Pharna this morning?" "No, but I think she has the day off."

"Then my sister said she would come after all!"

"Maybe you should try…"

"Did you hear the Emperor is holding a grand reception?" "Just heard about it this morning."

Warren opened his eyes. He wasn't given to eavesdropping, so he tuned out the voices and read instead until it was time for his next meeting. At the agreed time, he was at Rja's doorway, PI in hand.

"Don't just stand there – come in! We have an appointment." Rja nearly barked.

Sukja had sort of warned Warren about the housemaster, so he was somewhat prepared for the curt reception. Apparently Imperial staff did not intimidate this woman. The housemaster gestured him to sit in front of her desk. Her office had an interesting blend of modern and old-style furnishings. The room was immaculate with not an item out of place nor a speck of dust to be seen on the gleaming desk top.

"Thank you for seeing me," Warren began politely.

"Sukja assigned you to work with me, and I will." Rja said gruffly.

The phrasing of the statement was not lost on Warren. He didn't quite know how to react, so he did not.

The housemaster looked at Warren as if sizing him up. "What are you anyway? Haven't seen your kind before and I've seen most of them."

'My god, this one is blunt!' Warren thought. "I'm human."

"From Earth System, correct?"

"Yes. It's at the far end of Turzent space."

"The backward planet that was reason for the war." She said coldly.

Warren felt suddenly defensive and the need to clarify the situation. "It was an _excuse_ for a war the Commonwealth already wanted. It wasn't the cause of the war."

"Not what I heard. But I can see now why Ztar didn't want to give it up," she said with what could be interpreted as a condescending smile.

Warren was really not liking this woman. She was pushing his buttons and she didn't even know him! "Perhaps we should get to the business at hand," Warren said to redirect the conversation.

"Very well. The official guest list is available?" Rja asked coolly.

"It's in the computer," Warren replied without emotion.

"Including the expected honored guests?"

"That as well."

"And the theme for the evening?" the housemaster prompted.

"New Beginnings."

"Then that is everything I should need to get started. Our meeting can be concluded," she said with a dismissive look.

Warren considered his options. He could leave now or force the meeting to proceed as Sukja requested – for Warren to discuss initial ideas with each head of staff before they created their draft plan. He decided on following Sukja's wishes.

"Rja, I would like to talk over your initial thoughts before you draft your plan."

The housemaster made no attempt to hide her sigh that was filled with exasperation. "Archangel, I've been in my position for a long time. I am perfectly capable of preparing a plan without someone with no obvious qualifications coaching me. So if you don't mind, I prefer to simply prepare my plan and submit it to Sukja."

Warren had had about enough. How did Sukja tolerate this woman's arrogance and rude behavior? It was totally unacceptable.

"Is it me you have a problem with or Sukja's instructions?"

Rja contemplated for a moment, then spoke. "Actually, it is you, Archangel, and what you represent. You should know that many here feel that your planet wasn't worth the cost. The Empire should have let it fall to the Commonwealth. Perhaps then, war could have been avoided. So many lives would not have been taken from us. But Ztar makes choices based on his agenda, not ours. And apparently he believed you were worth the price."

Warren stood his ground. "As I said, my planet was an excuse. Another excuse would have come along if Ztar _had_ surrendered my world to the Commonwealth, and there would still have been war and lives still would have been lost."

Rja measured her victim again before speaking. "Perhaps. But by postponing war for awhile, the Empire could have perfected the FTL improvements before war erupted and either avoided it all together or shortened it. Again, lives saved."

"We did not cause your war. My world was not only taken into the Empire without our consent but we were never asked if we wanted the Empire to go to war over us. The decision was made without Earth's input or request and lies squarely with the Emperor."

Warren caught what he thought was a flicker of sadness in Rja's eyes. Suddenly, his instinct told him where the hostility may be coming from.

"Did you lose someone in the war?" he almost whispered, hoping the change in tactics might defuse the situation.

Rja blinked and then her eyes danced with anger and she leaned toward Warren. "What I may or may not have lost in the war is of no concern to one such as you! I have been told to work with you and I will do as commanded, but I do not have to share personal information with you or like you. We will get the job at hand done as quickly as possible to limit our discomfort. I will act professionally in my duties and I expect equally of you. Do I make myself clear?"

'Rja makes Ztar look like a pansy!' Warren commented to himself.

"Agreed." Warren answered coldly. This was not going to be fun assignment.

"Very well."

The next several minutes were some of the most uncomfortable Warren had ever spent with someone he had to work with. Hostility virtually leeched off the housemaster. But as she said, she acted professionally, and in the end would have a draft plan in two day's time.

Warren breathed a huge sigh of relief when he finally escaped Rja's office.

###

The fourth night of Ztar's fresh start proceeded as the previous nights had. Ztar continued showing Archangel the pleasures his touch could elicit. He knew Archangel was struggling to maintain control and not lash out at the Emperor's 'toying,' as Archangel described it in his thoughts. Archangel held his tongue and tried to resist what the Emperor was doing with limited success. Ztar wondered when Archangel would finally confront him.

Warren was growing more and more exasperated with each passing night. If he was honest with himself, it was his own reaction to Ztar's physical attentions that angered Warren the most. 'Maybe this is where four years of Ztar as my only sexual release has gotten me!' he speculated.

Warren struggled as his body desired Ztar to continue the most pleasurable sensations, while his mind screamed in protest, indignation, and repulsion. The conflict was tearing him apart during the encounters. How could his own body betray him like that? And Ztar was playing into that betrayal so effectively it was maddening!

###

Today was the day Chef Delme was to provide his draft report. As Warren neared the Chef's domain, the smells and sounds of a busy kitchen greeted him. He had commed ahead this time and Delme agreed to meet mid morning, during the relative lull between the morning meal and lunch.

"Archangel! I'm here," the Chef called out from the behind one of the large stoves. His voice was edged with irritation. Wiping his hands on his apron, Delme came around to meet Warren.

"Good morning!" Warren greeted the gruff chef with a warm smile, hoping it wasn't him that was causing the agitation.

"Perhaps for you it is! But here I'm faced with ineptitude. A simple task becomes a lesson in abject incompetence," the Chef grumbled.

"Throw it out and start over!" Delme ordered the staff cook he had left standing behind the stove. "I'll be in my office if you need me."

The Chef muttered most of the way as he walked ahead of Warren to his office.

Unlike Rja's immaculate office, the Chef's was much less tidy. He cleared off the chair in front of his desk so Warren could sit. Then he sat himself and pulled up information on his PI.

"Now, you need to understand, this is just a draft plan. I have much work yet to do. Once Sukja agrees in concept, I will check the availability of the more exotic ingredients. But his approval must come quickly. We have precious little time for some of my ideas."

"That's been the running theme. Four weeks is pushing it."

"Less than four weeks now. Every day is critical from this time forward. Don't worry, though, I'll have back up plans. Certainly, though, between you and Sukja, I would have thought one of you would have talked some sense into our Emperor. Four weeks to plan a grand reception – he expects miracles!" The Chef looked over his PI to Warren.

"He has complete faith in your abilities, Chef Delme," Warren said smoothly.

"Now I know without a doubt no one tried to talk sense to the Emperor!" He threw up his hands in a gesture of disbelief. "But I can see it's too late and I'll need to pull off yet another miracle in my kitchens."

Apparently the Chef's venting was over, because after that he dove into explaining his plan to Warren without further complaint. Warren felt everything sounded well-thought out and fell in line with the event's theme. As they concluded their review, Delme uploaded his plan to the main event database. Warren left the Chef's office feeling the meeting had gone well and the food side of things was in very capable hands.

Next on Warren's agenda was the gardener.

###

Ztar led Archangel to his large bed, they disrobed, and crawled in. But instead of Ztar's usual position on top of Archangel, he laid beside him. With Ztar on his side next to Warren on his back, the Emperor had to move a wing out so as to not be on top of it. Ztar had decided to push things more. Tonight, he would apply very gentle mental nudges to move things along.

"They do get in the way at times," he smiled down to Archangel as he maneuvered the feathered appendage aside.

While Warren wasn't sure what tonight would bring, he began his detachment technique, hoping the technique would allow him to get through tonight pretty much on autopilot should Ztar decide not to let him off easy anymore.

"Stay with me, Archangel," Ztar requested quietly.

'Did Ztar want a 'special' night?' Warren wondered. It often began with those words. Special nights involved conjuring up the passionate energy from deep within Warren that manifested during his year on the Mi-Lartui. But Ztar did not respond to his unspoken question, as Warren had believed he would.

Ztar ran his hand across Archangel's chest and leaned over for one of the human's delightful kisses. He remained gentle, sensually nipping at the full lips, not pushing into Archangel's mouth as he would normally. Instead, he moved to nuzzle Archangel's neck and ear lobe.

Now that Ztar's body rested on half of Archangel's, the wing on the opposite side of the human's body was within easy reach. His palm brushed over feathers with the lightest touch, sending a shiver through Archangel. Sometimes that tremble was all it took to ignite Ztar's lust, but he pushed that reaction down.

'Not yet!' he told himself firmly.

Ztar kissed his way down from Archangel's neck to his chest and swirled his tongue around a nipple on his way lower. He felt Archangel resist his attempts to arouse him. Confident in his abilities, Ztar continued to roam the human's body with gentle, sensual explorations.

Warren has having a hard time detaching, and he wondered if Ztar was subtly blocking his attempt. Once again, Warren's body was betraying him as Ztar plied his skill. It was infuriating! But as had been the case for four years, Warren had to endure.

Ever so gently, Ztar covered Archangel with soft sensation and pleasure. He worked carefully, not to let things build too quickly or too intensely. He treaded that fine line adeptly. Ztar knew Archangel was becoming aroused despite what the human wished. And contrary to what Archangel was thinking, Ztar was not blocking his detachment technique. It was just that Ztar was very good. Soon he would enter the human's mind to brush aside the resistance, but only minimally. He hoped that gradually the need for mental suppression would no longer be necessary.

As Ztar caressed, kissed, and explored, Warren fought to stifle his reactions. The sensations were intoxicating and Ztar teased and tempted in all the right places. Warren was finding it harder and harder saying 'no' to what his body was beginning to demand.

Ztar felt the desire building in Archangel. Then he ever so carefully subdued the resistance, but only some of it. This would be a gradual process and he didn't want Archangel to know what he was doing.

Warren was quickly falling into heat and lust. What did it matter who this man was? Warren wanted what he was offering. He felt Ztar's fingers on his wings, gently moving feathers aside to reach the sensitive skin beneath in just the right places, with the right pressure. God, it felt so good! He nearly cried out when the hands moved away. 'Back to the wings, _please_,' his body pleaded.

Archangel moaned and shifted beneath Ztar's manipulations and he was delighted. Ztar fought to remain focused on what brought Archangel the most pleasure. He gave the human what he needed, but gently, without urgency.

'Make this last…linger,' Ztar coached himself.

When Archangel moved his body up to meet Ztar's at the next kiss, he knew Archangel was ready for him to wash away more of his natural aversion. But cautiously, undetectably…

Warren no longer cared about anything but the sensations flooding his body. He kissed the man above him with urgent need. The kiss back was soft and leisurely. Warren ran a hand up and down the Emperor's torso, trying to elicit more of what he wanted. Still the response was lingering, not the heated reaction his body demanded. Maddening!!

The telepath stealthy swept away what was left of Archangel's inhibitions and continued to escalate Archangel's need to the point where he wanted Ztar to enter him, but that was not going to happen tonight. Ztar kept Archangel just below the point of cumming.

By the gods, though, Ztar wanted to take Archangel! His body shook with fevered desire, but with great effort he restrained himself. Fear of losing control flashed through him. He clamped down his own needs and focused on the long-term goal. Each time his mind and body drifted toward loosing its grip on control, he thought back to the two times he nearly lost Archangel. Never again!

In his lust-filled fog, Warren was desperate for Ztar to do something, anything to satisfy his need. Nothing Warren did seem to matter. 'Just do it!' he nearly cried aloud to the man. He kissed, nuzzled, probed, bit – nothing. His body was outraged!

Then Ztar began to bring Archangel down gradually, calmly soothing his body…steadily, carefully. He did not want to anger Archangel too much or cause him too great a discomfort.

Warren felt the overwhelming desire begin to ease. 'No! We're not done!' part of him decried. But Ztar was just as effective in bringing him down as building him up. Warren trembled from the unmet physical release as he continued to descend from wanting Ztar to complete the act. The world around him began to come into focus once again.

He was still laying his back with the Emperor to his side when his brain finally emerged from its lust-driven fog. Warren's breathing was still heavy and he was hot and sweaty. Ztar was looking down at him, brushing his hand through his now damp hair.

'We need to get some rest now, my Archangel,' Ztar put into the human's mind. The Emperor had brought Archangel back down without it being harsh – he was pleased with himself. Ztar repositioned himself in the bed, moved the one wing close to the mutant's body, and lied down to sleep, his back toward Archangel.

'What just happened!' Warren demanded of himself. He swallowed hard as a shiver ran through him. Confused and upset, still slightly trembling as the hormones dissipated in his system, he tried to figure out what this encounter was all about. Was he right and Ztar was toying with him for some unknown reason? Trying to start over with the delusion that Warren would come to care for him? Reprogram him to better fit this more public life? But then his eye lids grew heavy and his body demanded sleep. Warren gave in and drifted off next to the Emperor.

Ztar smiled as he heard Archangel's breathing become deep and slow. The Emperor congratulated himself on his self-control and that he had accomplished everything he had set out to do. Then he finally allowed himself to drift off, thinking about when he could truly be with his Archangel again.

###

Warren had slipped out of Ztar's chambers in the early morning hours. Back in his own chambers, he crawled into bed and sat against the headboard, knees tucked to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs tightly, wings held so that he was cocooned in their whiteness. It felt safe and isolated.

Warren was getting fed up. He really didn't care any more what Ztar's motives were. The end result is he was being toyed with. Not only was Ztar so very good at getting Warren to respond to his physical manipulations, but Warren couldn't seem to stop himself.

"So in the end, who are you more angry with – Ztar or yourself?!" Warren demanded. "You're the one responding to this man you supposedly despise! To make matters worse, you almost _asked_ to be fucked tonight. _Fool!!_" A shiver traveled through him as he remembered nearly begging Ztar to bring the sex to its conclusion.

He had detected no mental invasion by the Emperor to push aside his dislike of both the man and the male-on-male sex. That had never been the case before. Every time Ztar had used the technique in the past, Warren could feel his aversions fall away, though by the time he realized what was happening, he usually didn't care anymore. But this time, he felt none of that "melting away" sensation. So Ztar either wasn't applying the suppression or he was doing it so subtly that Warren couldn't detect it. Or, more disturbing, had Warren become so programmed by the Turzent that his body reacted as Ztar wanted and it no longer mattered what Warren's mind had to say? That was the simplest explanation. Four years of the Emperor and Ztar was finally getting what he wanted – a willing bedmate.

God, he hated what he apparently was becoming. A willing whore to a man who had abused him without regret. What manner of man was Warren? Yet what did it matter? For years he fought against caving to the Emperor. He did what he had to do those years to ensure Earth's future. Through it all, he never gave up trying to hold onto himself. But it had been four years, and now Warren was stuck on a planet far from home, still indentured to the alien, with no hope of ever being free of that bondage. So really, what did it matter if Warren finally gave up the fight?

'No, don't go there!' Warren ordered himself. 'It _does_ matter if you give up and go quietly with the enemy.' He remembered bitterly the moment when Xavier told him to go with Ztar. Now, though, he was practically telling himself that he should do just that.

'It was wrong then and it's wrong now,' he told himself. 'If I can't keep myself intact in bed, at least I can outside of Ztar's chambers.'

But isn't that giving an inch? What will the next inch be? And the next after that? 'Where's your line in the sand, Worthington? He's already got you helping with his big show. Is that the second inch?'

The most maddening thought of all was that Warren's contemplations were an open book to the Emperor. It sickened him – there would never be any privacy with the Turzent. No place to hide away in his mind and keep his tortured thoughts his own. Ztar could do with those thoughts as he wished. Warren felt like screaming for a very long time.

Warren knew he had to snap out of the early morning beating he was giving himself. It only served to once again reinforce how alone and self-repugnant he felt.

'God, I just want to be free – to have some semblance of a happy life. Is that _too much_ to ask?' his heart cried out. He hugged his wings tighter to himself.

###

Another beautiful, early summer morning in the Imperial Valley. Warren returned from his morning flight about a half hour after sunrise. He had needed it more than usual after last night's despair. God, he hated the emotional roller coaster he had been on for four years! Every time he thought he'd found firm ground, he would lose his footing again – like last night.

He forced himself not to rehash the previous night and focused on the day's duties. First, he needed to meet again with the Moit'de. Warren was actually looking forward to talking more with the intriguing gardener. The second meeting he dreaded – Rja. She had already set the appointment for early afternoon to present her draft plan for the reception. Warren only hoped he could hold his tongue if the woman was as rude as their first meeting.

He was to meet Moit'de early, as they had agreed two days ago. By the time Warren showered and got ready, it was time to head to the meeting spot. As Warren glided toward the znethia beds, he spied Moit'de busy close by.

Hearing the beat of wings, Moit'de looked up and called out. "Good morning, Archangel! Beautiful day, yes?"

"It is indeed!" Warren replied as he landed near the gardener.

"Come close, need help," Moit'de gestured for Warren to stand next to him. Moit'de was holding back one plant while attempting to spade out another. "Hold dayfras safe."

Warren held back the flowering plant that was apparently called dayfras, while Moit'de continued to extract the other plant. The dayfras smelled sweet and spicy – quite nice.

"This one smells good," Warren commented as Moit'de worked.

"You like? Then we add to plan! Dayfras work well with others. Very cooperative," the gardener decided.

"Your plan is all worked out I take it?"

Moit'de huffed a bit as he worked to free the plant. "Yes. Good plan – new beginnings."

Finally the plant let go of the ground and Moit'de lifted it into his cart. "We take stubborn one to new home."

With that Moit'de tossed his spade into the cart, grabbed the handle, and was off.

Warren followed next to him. They walked in silence for many paces.

"Why you sad?" the question came from nowhere. Moit'de apparently decided to pick up where their first meeting left off.

"It's complicated," was all Warren would say.

Moit'de seemed to contemplate that for a bit. "Complicated be distracting. Best things be simple."

"I wish they were," Warren sighed.

"Usually are simple, but we make simple complicated," Moit'de offered, glancing over at Warren.

It was Warren's turn to contemplate. "Sometimes the complicated parts demand attention."

"True. Plants get complicated. Many things demand attention. Many things beyond control. Focus on what plant need – all rest follow."

As they continued to walk, Warren thought about what the gardener had said. He was right. Warren could see how plants could get complicated. Many things compete for attention – the soil, water, surrounding plants, garden pests. And many things are outside the control of the gardener – the weather, the seasons, the general location of the garden. But if you focus not on tending to those factors and instead on what the _plant_ needs, it makes your decisions much less complex. The plant's needs really don't change while everything around it can.

"I think I understand what you're saying. Stay focused on what truly matters and let that guide you though all the complications."

"Yes, Archangel. Plants know when you do best for them – not for others. And look how happy they are!" Moit'de swung his arm wide at his gardens with a smile.

Warren had to agree, Moit'de's gardens were indeed happy. They were beautifully happy!

"Now we get lixcheons to new home. Then we get your plan."

Warren and the gardener finished the transplanting before finding a comfortable spot to review the reception plan on the gardener's PI. It was a good plan.

Between his meeting with Moit'de and Rja, Warren kept busy reviewing the plan submitted by Delme and the gardener and other miscellaneous tasks Sukja had assigned him. Warren was beginning to feel like an errand boy for Sukja, but found he really didn't mind. Ztar was right – he and Sukja did work well together, and Warren definitely wasn't bored.

Before he headed down to Rja's office, Warren rechecked his messages. Odd – Rja had postponed the meeting until tomorrow morning, but said the plan was on the computer and the meeting likely was unnecessary. She would await his reply about canceling the meeting. Warren promptly responded back that the meeting was necessary and he would see her in her office tomorrow morning. The housemaster continued to be a challenge.

###

Sukja and Ztar had lunch privately in Sukja's chambers. There was much to discuss – the upcoming meeting constitutional meeting, the grand reception, and Archangel.

"Everything is in place for constitutional meeting, my Emperor. General Rehsaw contacted us saying he may be delayed due to the situation on Mennisa, but he would do what he could. If he's unable to attend in person, he will via subspace link." Sukja took another bite of the staff fare they had delivered to Ztar's chambers. 'Quite good, as always.'

Ztar nodded. The Mennisa System was a thorn in Ztar's side, a system he had acquired as part of the peace treaty with The Systems Commonwealth. It wasn't a star system he had particular interest in, aside from the fact that it was one of the new border systems, and this one happened to fall to the side of the Empire. The people of Mennisa and her sister planets were not pleased. There had been constant unrest since the treaty was signed.

The Emperor pushed the food around his plate. "Perhaps once our new constitution is in place, that problem will lessen. I know the Mennisan people have had a hard time with the transition," Ztar said with an empathy that somewhat surprised Sukja. Another sign the Emperor was changing for the better. The old Ztar would have squelched the resistance much more harshly than he was allowing Rehsaw to do now.

"Planning for the grand reception is progressing nicely. We should have draft plans from all the head staff within a day. We are already receiving acknowledgments to the invitations – many expressing happiness that we are at last celebrating victory."

"Caution, my friend. There was no victor in our war. It was a negotiated peace between two powers, neither of whom had yet clearly won or lost."

"Unfortunately or fortunately, my Emperor, that's not how many people view it. They feel you lead us to victory – negotiated or not. And they feel it would have been only a matter of time before we would have won the war outright," Sukja explained, sipping his Tanquer root tea.

"And there are those who feel the war was not justified and blame me for it!" Ztar's eyes narrowed.

"Rja and her traditionalist ilk?" Sukja noted Ztar had yet to take more than two bites of food.

"And others. I know what goes through her mind. She remains steadfastly loyal to me, Sukja, don't misread. But her views, and those that believe as she does, are twisted. They blame the wrong people for the war. To them it was not an honorable war. Little gained, many lives lost, over a world of no consequence. They do not understand, or choose not to acknowledge, that Earth was simply the last in a long line of proddings the Commonwealth used to incite war."

"People often place blame where it is easiest, not where it belongs."

Ztar sighed and said nothing for several seconds. "How are Rja and Archangel handling each other?"

"Neither one has said anything to me. I do know that they met two days ago. We'll see how that plays out. I am hoping that working with Archangel will help Rja adjust her perspective somewhat."

"Sukja, I think you play with fire!" Ztar chuckled, taking a sip of water. "Rja is very set in her views on most things. Archangel being Imperial staff and Earth's supposed role in triggering war – those are very clearly labeled in her mind as untenable. I'm not sure I would have assigned them to work together. I wish Archangel luck!"

"Whatever happens, Rja is a professional and the job will get done," Sukja assured.

"That I do agree with." Ztar pushed away from the table to lean back in his chair, and then locked eyes with his attendant. "About Archangel…"

"My feeling is he is adjusting – in fits and starts. Two steps forward, one step back."

"Your observation matches mine. He swings back and forth between several extremes. At times, he actually seems to be settling in. Then the anger and resentment come again. Or the despair. I have a hard time keeping up with him emotionally, Sukja. Every time I think I'm making headway, something new comes up to disrupt any progress."

"It was only been fourteen days since Earth, my Emperor. Give it time." Sukja jabbed another piece of food. Ztar may not be hungry, but Sukja was.

Ztar stood and walked over to the balcony doors to look out. "Sukja, it hasn't been fourteen days, it's been four years. Four years he has resisted. He fights so hard to hold to himself. It almost breaks my heart!"

"Those four years weren't on Sat'rey. They weren't good for building a life together, my Emperor. You should not count them into what you're hoping for here at home." Sukja remained seated, watching his Emperor closely.

"I want so much for him. To be happy – or at least content. I accept that he likely will never love me the way I want him to. But care for me? Yes, I want that. I want a true companion, Sukja."

"What part of him is he holding back?" With a silent sigh, Sukja put down his utensil. Continuing to eat now would be disrespectful to his Emperor.

"Physically, he gives me what I want. Earth is still a powerful motivator. One I'll likely be losing. It's his heart and soul he withholds, Sukja."

Ztar walked back and forth in front of the balcony doors. "Archangel gives because he must. He does not _resist_ me. I wish him to _give_ to me because he wants to – it's that simple. But I'm doubting that will ever be possible. And my time is running short. If I am to uphold my own new constitution, Earth will be free and Archangel will no longer need to give because he has to."

"Do you think he has figured that out?" Sukja was now more concerned than ever.

"He is intelligent, Sukja. He will."

"And when he does, what will you do?"

"I'm not entirely sure."

It was apparent the Emperor was distressed over the thought as he slowly paced. Sukja remained silent.

"I won't give him up, Sukja. I can't and remain sane."

'Possessive love still,' Sukja thought to himself. Would Ztar ever be able to move past it?

"Then you must be prepared for when Archangel does realize Earth will be freed," Sukja injected, stating the obvious. "If you hold onto him after Earth is free, there will be ramifications you must be willing to accept."

"Those ramifications are what tear at me! He will hate me even more, resist even more – I will have to take what I want and need by controlling his mind. I will need to keep him against his will. I'm no longer certain I have the heart for that, Sukja. But what option will I have?"

"There are always options, as Archangel himself once told me."

"The easiest option is to not free Earth from the Accord!" Ztar sounded angry at the notion.

"What about the other treaties? Would those hold also?" Sukja countered.

"The Turzent-Earth Accord is unique. It is the only one granting total autonomy from the Empire, as long as Archangel cooperates. I could make an exception on those grounds – Earth already is under a different rule."

"True, you could. But would others demand the same treatment – complete autonomy from Imperial oversight?" Sukja pushed the point.

"Again, the Accord would have already been in existence. I could defend my position on this, Sukja. I believe it is my best option, should I need to use it."

Sukja was saddened by the thought of Archangel forever bearing the weight of Earth's welfare. That kind of long-term stress would most likely wear him down physically and emotionally. Not only that, but it may forever stand in the way of Ztar getting what he truly wanted from Archangel.

"And if Archangel should decide to no longer abide by the Accord, what would you do?" Sukja pressed.

Ztar stopped his pacing and squared himself to Sukja. "I truly cannot answer that. Even under today's Empire, I don't think I have the heart to do as I threaten because Archangel refuses me. Under our new constitution, my options are very limited. I can no longer place Earth into forced servitude. The most I could do would be to declare the planet as a hostile protectorate with a temporary planetary government put into place. That may or may not be enough to keep Archangel with me willingly."

Ztar slowly made his way back to the balcony doorway and looked out over the gardens. Moit'de's troops were busy tending to their daily maintenance as Ztar watched. "Do I ask too much to be happy? That's all I want in the end. And I'd like that to be with Archangel."

"It is not, my Emperor. Look how far you've come. How much closer you are than four years ago. Stay the course. I will help however I can."

Ztar turned back to his attendant. "I know you will, my friend. You always have. Even when I was the monster Archangel sees me to be," Ztar's eyes were downcast.

"You are no longer that man. That is in your past. Continue to move forward toward what you want to become no matter what happens between you and Archangel. Perhaps in the changing, you will gain what you desire."

Ztar looked at the wise man that he had the privilege to call friend. Sukja was dear to him. He could not imagine life without this gentle soul in his life. Not any more than he could imagine life without Archangel.

Sukja rose from the table. "Now, I have much to do, my Emperor. You tasked me with pulling together an Imperial grand reception in four weeks. An impossible task for anyone except your highly talented palace and Imperial staff, I might add."

That brought a smile to Ztar's face. "Go, then!" Ztar said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

###

After dinner, Warren and Ztar walked to the Emperor's chambers as they had done each of the last several nights. Ztar was saying something about the grand reception when they passed one of the palace staff. 'Unusual,' Warren thought. He hadn't seen palace staff in the private wing after hours until now. The staffer simply nodded to the Emperor and continued past them down the hall. Ztar didn't seem to take notice, so Warren didn't give it more thought.

Warren was raleady agitated with what he anticipated was coming…another night of Ztar's exasperating behavior. It was getting old and bordered on sadistic in his opinion. So when Ztar started, Warren spoke up.

"Ztar, either do what you really want or stop right now!" Warren nearly shook with anger and mild fear. He remembered the blinding pain of mental punishment from his first night back on the Mi-Lartui all too clearly.

"This _is_ what I want!"

Warren looked squarely at the Emperor who was atop him once again. "You're toying with me and I want it to stop." He was firm.

"Then are you saying you want me to have sex with you?" Ztar's eyebrows were raised.

"Ztar, if we never had sex again, it would be too soon! Just either do it or don't." he snarled. Warren felt his blood would boil.

"Perhaps you really want the act to go to completion, but are unwilling to admit it."

Ztar said that smoothly, but by Warren's measure the Emperor's eyes looked saddened. He pushed the Emperor back with all his considerable strength and sat up, mildly surprised Ztar had allow him to do so. "Don't you wish! Get off me, I'm leaving."

Warren got out of bed, yanked on his pants, and left. Amazingly, Ztar did not try to stop him, but Warren was fearful of the consequences. Leaving Ztar's chambers was a risk. What would Ztar do? Punish Earth for one act of rebellion in four years? He didn't think so – at least he hoped not. He prayed not. Perhaps the Emperor would give him this one pass.

###


	4. Chapter 4

_Greetings one and all! Thought I'd get this chapter out a little more quickly. Thank you for following our tale thus far and hope the segment meets with your approval. As always, if you're in the mood, let me know if I'm keeping your interest or I've missed the boat. _

_It's probably time to say this again. I don't own the Worthington/Archangel character or any part of the Marvel Universe - just borrowing him for awhile. _

_Echo Dancer  
"When you write from the soul, the pen moves itself."_

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Ztar was stunned at Archangel's departure. He had not anticipated it. Not once in four years had the human dared to leave the bed. The Emperor was torn about his reaction – should he have stopped Archangel? Would this be a one-time occurrence or a sign of things to come? If the later, what should Ztar do about it? He was not willing to accept more refusals. Would Archangel push him into a corner and he'd need to take action? He prayed that would not be the case.

'For now, just see what happens,' he told himself. 'Do nothing rash.'

###

By the time he had poured himself a glass of Dison and slipped onto his balcony through the already open door, he wasn't shaking quite so much. Ztar had not prevented him from leaving or chased him down. Could this new life include occasionally being able to say no? Warren had a hard time believing that could be the case. For now, he'd just wait and see how things played out. He sat down to enjoy the drink, night air, and his unexpected night off.

Sipping the Dison, he heard a voice from beneath his balcony. Obviously, someone was on the patio below.

"So you're done for the night?" a female voice asked.

"All done. It was a hard day – Rja was all over me about some little thing again. I swear, you can not please that woman!" a male said with obvious frustration.

"You won't get an argument from me on that," the female replied, laughing. There was a pause in the conversation.

"She's been particularly difficult the past couples days. Something about the Emperor's new companion."

"What do you think of Archangel?" the female inquired.

"The human is certainly…intriguing. It doesn't surprise me that the Emperor took to something so closely resembling an Esserru. He always has had exotic tastes from what I hear," the man answered.

Warren's interest was now very piqued.

"Shhh, his chambers are right above us," the female warned in a more muted voice.

"Not to worry, I passed the Emperor and his companion heading for the Ztar's chambers. The Emperor will keep him busy for quite some time." This time the man chuckled.

The staff member from the hall – Warren tried to picture his face, but it eluded him.

"The Emperor has great stamina, if the stories are true!" the female cooed.

"You're in love with the Emperor," the male teased and the female laughed lightly.

"So what if I am? A girl's got to have dreams! He's brave, intelligent, handsome and-"

"And powerful!" the male finished the sentence.

"Yes, and powerful. Still, what do you think of Archangel?"

"I think it's distasteful that he's been named to Imperial staff, to be honest. What was our Emperor thinking? Do you ever recall an Emperor's whore being Imperial staff?"

"Such language!" the female chided. Warren felt a stab to his soul. "I prefer Emperor's consort," the female continued.

"Consort usually refers to Imperial spouses. The human is hardly that. He's a companion at best, and a whore most certainly."

"You're being cruel! You have no idea what the situation really is," the female said in defense.

"It's the truth. Just ask Rja – she's knows a lot about Imperial traditions from the old days of the Ta'oc Worlds. No other Emperor would have done what Ztar has done. It's not proper."

As he listened intently to the pair below, Warren's face burned with embarrassment and anger.

"Ztar has done a lot of things differently from the old ways. He _built_ our empire – he can change the rules," the female countered.

"But something like this? To rise a whore to a level above Rja, Delme, and the others? To put him at the same level as _Sukja_?!" the man sounded very offended.

There was a pause in the conversation, then "I wonder what Sukja thinks?" the female pondered.

"Even if he was against it, he would never say anything against Ztar. He always supports whatever the Emperor decides. Although I can't imagine that when Ztar named this human to his Imperial staff that Sukja was pleased. How could he be? It's an insult to what it takes to get to that level."

Warren's stomach churned and he didn't want to hear anymore, but he couldn't tear himself away.

"Obviously, these days you get to be Imperial staff by being good in bed," the man continued. "I don't know what Sukja thinks, but I know Rja is livid."

"She told you?!" the female sounded very surprised.

"No. But I did overhear some of her conversation with Sukja when he told her she'd be working with Archangel on the grand reception."

"What did she say?" The woman's voice was filled with anticipation.

"That it was a disgrace for the human to be on the Imperial staff. That it went against all the traditions of generations past. Emperor's companions are beneath Imperial staff _and_ palace staff, and that's the way it should remain. She said she respects the Emperor and would be always loyal to him, but she could not accept this breach of morality. It simply isn't right!"

"What did Sukja say?"

"That Ztar's commands are to be obeyed and not judged. Ztar and only Ztar would decide what was appropriate. He said Archangel had earned both Ztar and Sukja's respect and the palace staff will also respect him. There was no choice in the matter."

"Did you hear anything else?"

"I couldn't listen any longer – people were coming down the hall. I can only guess that she is doing as ordered, because I know she met with the human about the reception a couple days ago."

"Would have loved to overhear that meeting. Rja can be quite outspoken and blunt," the female mused.

"I almost feel sorry for the human. I wonder if he knows what people think."

"Not everyone is so traditional, Tarric. I personally don't see anything wrong with him being Imperial staff."

"You would say that – you're so accepting of everyone, Merryth. It's one of the things that makes people like you so much."

The female's laugh was light. "All I know is that this Archangel is very handsome and he can fly! Can you imagine?! To be so free…" her voice trailed off.

'If only you knew how unfree I am!' Warren panged with a bitterness steeped in sadness.

"We should get inside and call it a night. Been a long day," the male suggested. The sound of chairs moving indicated the couple was headed inside and Warren heard no more of their conversation.

Warren was reeling. How could he have not noticed? If what these two had said is true, perhaps that explains the standoffishness of some of the palace staff. How many people feel as this Tarric and Rja?

It explained the extremely cold reception he received from Rja. Perhaps it also caused the initial reaction of Chef Delme, although he seemed to warm after a bit. Why didn't Sukja warn him? Why not tell him what he was up against? How long would this have gone on if Warren hadn't overheard the conversation below?

Warren downed his Dison in a single gulp and got up. 'What else do I have to endure?' He felt like putting his fist through the patio door. A whore who rose above his station and people aren't happy! Why did Ztar do this to him? What was the Emperor trying to manipulate and force him into being? No one was happy – not Warren, not palace staff, maybe not Sukja or the rest of the Imperial staff. Maybe the only one happy was Ztar!

Warren sat down angrily his bed and pounded his fist into the pillows. He was close to ripping his room apart like he had on the Mi-Lartui so long ago. The man's words rang harshly in his mind. "To rise a whore to a level above Rja, Delme, and the others? To put him at the same level as _Sukja_?!...It's an insult…"

The hurt went deep, as did the anger. Someone at least could have warned him – been honest about how people were going to look at this. Why keep him naïve? It was just another way in which decisions were made for him. No one asked what Warren wanted or cared how he might feel. He threw the surrogate punching bags across the room. 'Whore.' The word cut so deep. It was one thing to call himself the Emperor's whore, an entirely different matter when someone else said it was so.

Warren pushed aside that line of thought for the moment and refocused on Sukja. He had noticed nothing different about Sukja's attitude toward him at any point since Warren rejoined Ztar. Had Sukja already come to terms with Ztar's decision by the time Warren was back on the Mi-Lartui, or was Sukja actually okay with naming Warren to Imperial staff? He leaned toward Sukja being okay with it as Warren felt it would be very difficult to hide his feelings from him day after day.

Then Warren caught himself. When did he start caring about how Sukja felt?

He got up and paced the room, anger continuing to escalate. How could he go on with life at the palace knowing what people thought? He dreaded tomorrow. This was intolerable. Couldn't do it! Yet he had to. And once again, he was in a corner with no escape. Without making a conscious decision, he found himself in the hall chiming Sukja's door.

###

It was late and Sukja had just wrapped up some detail planning for the reception. He was about to prepare to retire when his door chimed. Who could it be at this hour?

When the door opened to reveal Archangel, Sukja's heart sank. One look at the human and he knew something was very wrong.

"Archangel, please come in."

The human entered and immediately turned on Sukja.

"Why didn't you tell me?! How could you have not said anything! Did you think I wouldn't find out? What kind of sick game is Ztar playing?"

Archangel began pacing the room, wings held in the slightly spread position that indicated intense anger. Sukja gathered himself silently. 'What had triggered the human this time?'

"Why put me in this position knowing how people would react? It's ridiculous! This whole thing is a mockery! What the hell does Ztar hope to gain?!" Archangel spat with near lethal force.

"Archangel, please slow down and tell me what you're talking about." Sukja had a feeling what Archangel was alluding to, but needed to be certain.

Archangel stopped in the middle of Sukja's chambers and glared at him. "This nonsense about me being Imperial staff! It's a joke. No – it's an insult and distasteful and, let's see what else. Oh yeah, it's a disgrace!" The words were acid.

Sukja wasn't one for swearing, but he did now, silently. Who had Archangel been talking to? The first person that jumped to mind was Rja, but Sukja believed she was more professional than that. Whoever it was, they would be dealt with harshly. Or if Ztar found out, the person may not live to regret their poor judgment!

"Archangel, who told you this?"

"No one! There's no one for Ztar to punish!"

Archangel's eyes were narrowed and threatening. 'Try again, Sukja,' he said to himself. "Where did you hear such things?"

Archangel stalked over toward Sukja's open balcony door. Sukja's heart skipped a beat when he thought the human might jump off into the night in this state. But he didn't – he stood in the threshold and then turned back. Sukja sensed pain beneath the anger.

"I overheard it. Neither you or Ztar had enough balls to tell me what I should have been told. Why didn't you say something? Why did Ztar put me in this position? Don't I have enough to deal with already?"

Sukja edged closer to the human. "Archangel, I am truly sorry. Whatever it was you overheard, it obviously doesn't tell the whole story. Please, let's talk this through. I really can't answer your questions unless I know more about what you heard."

The human hesitated looking out into the night, seemingly caught between wanting to talk or fly off into the darkness. After many seconds, Archangel had decided to stay and he walked over to Sukja's sitting area. As Archangel sat on the edge of a chair, Sukja took a seat directly across from him.

"Now tell me what you heard," Sukja urged.

Sukja listened as Archangel related the conversation he'd eavesdropped on a few minutes ago, even though repeating the stinging words was obviously hurtful. As Archangel spoke, Sukja watched for signs of what specifically upset him most. These would be the points Sukja focused on.

"There – that's everything I heard. Now you tell me why I shouldn't be angry right now?" Archangel demanded.

"Angry, hurt, and embarrassed?" Sukja explored.

Archangel didn't respond. He simply stood and looked down at Sukja venomously. "I don't need a fucking psychiatrist! I just want to know why you didn't tell me!"

"Please, Archangel, sit down. I will answer your question," Sukja back-pedaled.

Archangel returned to his seat, though not happily.

"We said nothing because we didn't feel the need. Most people at the palace find nothing wrong with naming you to Imperial staff. Just as the woman you overheard stated. If Ztar wants you on his Imperial staff, they accept that without question. It is his right as Emperor to surround himself with people of his choosing, no matter what their background."

"As for the man, he is in the definite minority. And Rja, is Rja – she is an outspoken traditionalist and that has gotten her into trouble in the past. But Ztar puts up with her strict interpretation of Imperial life because it gains him the best housemaster on Sat'rey, and thus the best household staff on the planet. I did indeed have a conversation with Rja and the story was retold correctly. She is not pleased with your appointment. It clashes with her austere view of what is proper, only because what Ztar did has never been done before. But just because something wasn't done before, doesn't make it wrong. You simply may be the first royal companion to have made that kind of impression on their ruler."

Archangel seemed to be calming down. Sukja rose and walked over to where he kept his liquor. He continued explaining while pouring two glasses of Dison.

"Regardless of Rja's feelings, she will perform her duty with professionalism. She may not make it easy, but she will work with you. How you handle Rja is entirely at your discretion. I will warn you, though, that she lost her only child in the war and I have heard that she may hold that against you, as wrong as that is. She may dislike you more for that than for you being Imperial staff."

Sukja returned to the sitting area with the glasses.

"She has already told me that – not about her child, but blaming Earth," Archangel shared, taking a sip of the liqueur. "She doesn't waste time or mince words!"

"No, not Rja. Chef Delme and Srandrez Moit'de are both accepting of your position, as is the security chief."

"The Chef was gruff – I thought perhaps…"

Sukja briefly chuckled. "No, Delme is naturally gruff. Actually, he likes you. I take it you have been a frequent visitor to his kitchens?" Sukja grinned at Archangel when the human nodded. "You and the Chef will get along well. And everyone loves Srandrez. He's a little quirky and sometimes his mind is off thinking about plants instead of his conversation with you, but his heart is as big as they come."

"But what about the mid and lower staff? The man talking definitely had strong opinions about this."

Sukja braced himself to delve deeper into what was truly bothering Archangel.

"As I said before, most are quite accepting of your position. But is that what is bothering you the most? Perhaps it's more than what a few people think of your position. Maybe it's what the man called you that's more upsetting. Perhaps because you look at _yourself_ only as the Emperor's whore?" Sukja said it and held his breath.

Archangel looked at him pointedly with those incredibly blue eyes. Sukja saw the anger flash again. "Isn't that what I am?!"

"Not even close. You sell yourself so short it hurts. Let me tell you how Ztar views you. You are his bedmate, true. But you are also his life line to the better part of him. You pulled him away from the brutality he used in the past to vent his frustrations and anger. You reawakened the gentle side of his soul that had been crushed because of what he had been through and decisions he had made in his life. You are intelligent and pragmatic and he would like to seek your counsel more often. You have an inner strength he admires and envies. You sacrifice yourself willing for the welfare of others, which Ztar feels is far nobler that he'll ever be." Sukja left it at that, quietly watching Archangel's every nonverbal response. What he was reading was both disbelief and anger.

"If he thinks so highly of me, if he loves me the way he says, he should let me go!" Warren couldn't believe the bull Sukja was feeding him. "It's meaningless how Ztar may or may not view me. I'm still his indentured whore until he releases me."

"If only it were that simple! Give him time. As we talked before, he may reach that level, but not yet. Right now he needs you too much to let you go."

"And in the meantime, I carry the weight of his needs."

"Sadly, yes. Yet it also puts you into a potentially powerful position. You can help Ztar reach where he wants to be, but isn't sure how to get there. But because our Emperor is a telepath, you must act out of a desire to help him, not manipulate for your own ends."

Archangel shook his head and stared at his glass. "I don't think I could do that even if I wanted to. I hate him too much. For good reason, I might add!"

"That is a choice. That was the same choice I faced many years ago. I could have hated the Emperor for the cruelties I saw him inflict – some justifiable, others not. But I made the choice to focus on the good I saw in the man. I, too, am in a powerful position to help Ztar grow. That power would be wasted if I didn't care enough to use it."

"It's one thing to witness cruelty, Sukja. Quite another to be on the receiving end!" Warren pointed out. 'Try being me for a while and we'll see how much good you see in Ztar!' Warren silently challenged.

"I understand that. But Ztar is not a complete monster. Unfortunately, you have endured the area of his life where he has been most frustrated and most angry. You, Archangel, are the first of his bedmates to have survived him intact since his augmentation."

Archangel's head lowered. "I understand why," the reply came in a near whisper.

"Do you, Archangel? I'm not going to say what he has done is justifiable, but it is explainable. Until you, he had to hold back, restrain himself – he's so strong, so full of desire and unmet need. Sensual bedmates were not physically tough enough and tough bedmates weren't sensual. That's just the physical side. Throw in the telepathy and empathic aspects, and it was impossible to find a fulfilling, long-term companion. Until you. You are his perfect match. Now that most of the anger and frustration has left him, you are seeing more and more of the real Ztar. You're seeing the man I've always known was there beneath the rage. That rage took years to build and it won't let go without a fight, despite Ztar's intentions otherwise."

"Even if I buy all this, it doesn't change that I don't – can't care for him. Not how he wants me to. That's not what I am! On top of that, he took me by force and stripped me of everything I had. How could he possibly expect me to forgive that?"

Sukja sipped his Dison and looked at Archangel for several moments. "What is, is, Archangel. You and I cannot change your situation with the Emperor right now. However, you do have a choice in how you view your situation. You can either continue to look at yourself as his whore and nothing more, or you can choose to view yourself as Imperial staff and one of Ztar's confidantes and advisors, who just happens to share his bed."

Archangel was thinking about his words very carefully, Sukja knew, so he waited before continuing.

"You've endured the worst Ztar could put you though and survived! That's behind you. Here at the palace is a chance for a fresh start. Although it may not be the future you pictured or that you would choose, it _is_ a new life." Sukja leaned toward the human. "I urge you to take advantage of the position Ztar has placed you in – it is one of power. Ztar trusts you enough to give you that. That is no small thing for our telepathic Emperor. How you wield that power is entirely up to you."

Archangel stood up and paced for a minute. Sukja could tell he was torn, and he couldn't blame him. Sukja had just asked him to change his whole paradigm of his relationship with Ztar.

"I'll think about what you said," Warren informed Sukja.

"I couldn't ask for more. Two things to contemplate. First, you are far more important to Ztar than you give yourself credit – that gives you influential power with him. Second, you are Imperial staff no matter what a few in the minority may feel is proper. That gives you tangible power in all things beyond Ztar. Use those powers wisely and you can help mold your own destiny with the Empire and perhaps the destiny of the Empire itself."

Archangel opened the door to leave, but paused. "Thanks, Sukja," and he left.

Warren wandered the quiet palace as he contemplated what Sukja had said. What he took away from the conversation was that either Warren could continue to be a victim or he could decide otherwise. Ztar had obviously given him a tool to be otherwise – did Warren want to wield it?

Then his mind drifted back to the early morning conversation with Moit'de. Warren could easily draw parallels between what the gardener said about focusing on what makes the plant happy and Ztar. Did the gardener know more about Warren's situation with Ztar than he admitted or was it simply wise philosophy that happened to apply?

In essence, Sukja and Moit'de were saying the same thing. Focus on Ztar's needs and the rest will follow. Was it even possible that if Ztar found happiness he would become strong enough to let Warren go? Warren wasn't convinced. Besides, it would mean surrendering himself completely to his captor – something Warren didn't feel he could do. Not only did it go against his nature, but it would reward Ztar for his atrocities against Warren. Yet, if it was the only road that led to even a possibility of freedom, wasn't it worth it? If so, was he tough enough mentally to make the move from simple non-resistance to willing Imperial companion? And the biggest question of all plagued him – was he being masterfully manipulated?

The only conclusion Warren could form right then was he needed to think about it more. At the moment, though, his mind and body were finally ready for sleep. He headed back to his chambers.

###

Rja was at her desk when Warren arrived. She barely looked up at him as she gestured for him to sit. "My plan is prepared and ready for Sukja's review," she said flatly.

"I would like to review it with you first," Warren pressed.

"I believe my plan is thorough and self-explanatory, Archangel. If you wish to read it before Sukja, then you had best do that."

"Rja, it is our responsibility to work together on this. My task is to review the plans directly with their authors before we present them to Sukja. We will review yours now." Warren ordered. This woman was again being uncooperative, but at least now he knew where the hostility was coming from.

The housemaster looked at Warren coldly. "That is a waste of my time, but if that is what _Sukja_ desires, I will review my plan with you so that you can understand it."

Warren chose to ignore the insult.

The next 15 minutes were extremely tense as Rja went through her draft plan step by step and Warren asked the pertinent questions that came to mind. Each question caused Rja to stiffen, but she answered him.

"The plan is sound," Warren commented when they were done. It was. Rja was obviously detailed oriented and she executed the theme of New Beginnings in ways Warren would have never considered.

"I don't need _your_ approval, Archangel, so spare me your judgments." Her voice was arctic ice.

Warren had had about enough. "If you have a problem with me personally, perhaps you should tell me what it is."

Rja studied Warren for several seconds. Then she leaned back in a superior posture.

"If you really don't know, let me explain. First, your world wasn't worth the lives it cost to keep it in the Empire." She held up her hand in a stop motion when Warren opened his mouth to protest that point once again. "You wanted to know, so listen!" Rja said sharply.

"We lost many lives in that unnecessary war that proved nothing and gained us little. You represent your planet and your people who were the reason for that war no matter what others tell you. Ztar was blinded by his obsession with you. His risked our Empire for your world and I feel saddened that our Emperor has become so enthralled by you that he cannot see that. I don't understand how you came to have so much power over him, but I see your influence even if he does not."

"We need a strong Emperor, one who can be ruthless if needed. In the end, it's his strength and purpose that holds us together. If that waivers or is misdirected, our Empire becomes vulnerable. Since you have come into his life, our Emperor has weakened. You undermine his strength and purpose."

"That's not true." Warren was shocked at the accusation.

"Let me speak, courtesan!" Rja commanded.

Warren winced at the term, but held his tongue.

"You are nothing but a royal prostitute. One in a long line that has passed through this palace and Ztar's bedchamber. What's makes you so special, I do not know. Looks alone does not explain what Ztar finds so compelling in you. How you've so bewitched our Emperor continues to mystify all concerned. And now you've somehow convinced the Emperor to raise you to the level of Imperial staff. That is an outrage. Courtesans are not Imperial staff – that is an insult to the men and women who have rightly earned those positions with loyalty, skill, and excellence of service. You have apparently earned that position in bed."

Rja' eyes burned with disgust. Warren wanted to lash out – she had no idea what she was talking about. No idea of what he'd been through. Her warped interpretation of what she saw was frightening. But how many others saw it as she did? Was Sukja being truthful when he said most were accepting of his position on the Imperial staff or was he softening reality?

"It saddens and angers me that our Emperor is so beguiled by you that it affects his judgment, but perhaps in time he will come to see the folly of what he has done. Until then, I will support the Emperor as I always have. I do not condone you being Imperial staff and I will continue to fear for my Emperor as long as you are in his life. We will be watchful of you, human."

'We?' What did she mean by that? But Warren did not want to press the point. He only wanted to leave this woman who was so filled with loathing.

"Are you finished?" Warren asked coldly.

Rja gave him a curt nod.

"My only comment, Rja, is that you are so off-base it frightens me." Warren rose and exited her office. The conversation shook him. Thankfully, he and Sukja had talked the previous night or Rja's attack would have likely set him spinning.

Warren needed some air time after Rja – time to clear his head and shed the anger. He rose above the palace and sliced back and forth in the air. Suddenly, a group of Sat'rey birds were flying past, eyeing him suspiciously. They looked more like bats than birds and not nearly as graceful as Earth's birds or as quick as its bats. Warren darted away, not wanting to run into any of the flock.

He ran through several of his aerial practice routines as he could do those without thought. The conversation with Rja would not leave him. Apparently, she and others had noticed a change in the Emperor and they were not pleased. Warren knew that Ztar was less harsh and cruel than four years ago. He believed it was a change for the good. It surprised him that not everyone agreed.

A sudden thought came to Warren. Would these same people be opposed to the new Imperial constitution? If they believed as Rja that Ztar needed to be tough ruler, perhaps they would see the transition to more democratic rule as a great weakness. Perhaps Warren would discuss this with Ztar. Knowing Ztar, though, he already knew what he was up against. Not easy to hide things from his telepathy or from his intellect.

Warren was coming in low over the gardens as he headed back to his balcony.

"Archangel!" he heard a familiar, heavily accented voice call out.

'Moit'de,' he thought and swung toward the sound. Spotting the man working on trimming plants, Warren landed near him and smiled at the gardener.

"A good day, friend Archangel?" the gardener asked without stopping his work.

"It could have gotten off to a better start," Warren admitted, strolling over the to groundkeeper.

The gardener waved his hand to the air. "Ah, yes. The flying give you away."

Warren thought back on it. Moit'de was right. His flying had had an edge to it – sharp moves, not easy and graceful.

"You are observant, master gardener."

"If you not, life pass unnoticed," the gardener shared as he snipped a branch from the shrub.

Warren picked up trimmings lying around the shrub and put them in the cart behind the Moit'de. "True."

"What anger you?"

"Rja." More distaste came across in his voice than he had intended.

"She has poor soil."

Warren stopped what he was doing and faced the gardener. "Poor soil?"

"Things may be planted, but die. Soil long ago gave everything. No good for growing. Poor soil."

Warren replayed the words in his mind. "What happened to Rja?"

"Many things. Old beliefs not trimmed off. Loss of mate. Loss of child. Listen to wrong people."

Wrong people caught Warren's attention. Rja had said '_We'll_ be watchful…'

"What kind of people?"

Moit'de stopped working and gazed at Warren thoughtfully.

"Come sit," and Moit'de headed toward a nearby garden bench.

"Not bad people, Archangel, I don't think. People with same beliefs. Hold to old ways, old traditions. No room for new. Life moves forward – all things change. Some want to stay in past – not change. Rja live in past. Quite sad."

Warren saw the gardener seemed truly saddened by Rja's plight. Perhaps Warren had done the same thing Rja had – judged without knowing the facts. But even knowing what he knew now, Warren wasn't sure he would have handled this morning's meeting differently.

"Emperor like Rja's traditions, but he moving forward," the gardener smiled warmly at Warren. "That cause things tense with them. Rja need to decide which more important – old ways or Emperor."

"I hope she decides for the Emperor – she runs the palace like clockwork. She is very good at her job," Warren said, stating the good in the housemaster's work.

"Indeed! But Rja has roots in poor soil and choice to make. Much like you have choice," the gardener said gently.

"Our situations are totally different!" What _did_ Moit'de know of Warren's situation? Was he and Sukja in cahoots?

"Yes, but choices all the same. Live in past or move forward. Some things good to keep. Other things become bad soil."

Warren said nothing as he analyzed the gardener's words. Was he holding too tightly to a past that would never be again? How was that impacting his life and decisions now? Some things Warren couldn't change about his situation, but others?

Moit'de rose. "Plants need tending, Archangel. As does our Emperor so he healthy and strong and planted in good soil. No one but Sukja tend to him for very long time."

With that the gardener stood and headed back to his trimming, leaving a contemplative Warren sitting on the garden bench.

###

Sukja was pleased with both Chef Delme's and Moit'de's reception plans. He did want to touch base with Archangel to get his perspective, since he was the one dealing with the chef and gardener. He was also anxious to see Rja's document, but that hadn't been submitted yet. Sukja wondered what the delay was about. Was Archangel encountering more resistance from the housemaster than Sukja had expected?

In the meantime, Sukja also had to help Ztar with the final arrangements for meeting again with his inner circle on the Imperial constitution in a couple days. Ztar had shared with Sukja that after this meeting, he hoped they would be ready to task the law writers with drafting the Empire's first constitution. These were very exciting times, indeed!

###

The Emperor had picked up his campaign where it left off after Warren stormed out of Ztar's chambers the previous night. With his body pinned between the Emperor's and the bed, there was no where for Warren to escape. Warren considered walking out on Ztar again, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He feared pushing the Emperor into choosing between forcing Warren to submit or exacting some sort of retribution on Earth. Warren certainly didn't want to jeopardize the Earth he had protected for so long, nor did he want Ztar to take control of him mentally. No, best to submit as he always had. The outcome was predictable that way – Earth safe, Ztar happy, and Warren in control of his mind, if not his body.

Just as predictable, Warren now burned with desire. The Emperor was pulling no punches this night and Warren was on fire. "Just take me now!" one part of him wanted to cry. The other part was trying to maintain some level of self control.

As Ztar did everything to Archangel except the final act, he knew the human was still resisting – he didn't need telepathy to tell him that. His responses were conflicted and came in bursts. Ztar continued to bombard Archangel with sexual stimulation.

"Please…" the word escaped Archangel's lips as his body shuddered under the cascade of sensation. Ztar's fingers tantalized the wings without mercy and Archangel moaned as his hands clenched the sheet.

"Please what, my Archangel?"

"Stop!" The human's eyes were squeezed shut. Archangel tried to push Ztar's hands aside, but the Emperor was not to be dissuaded.

"Why? You are enjoying this. Don't fight so hard." Ztar kept his voice encouraging and gentle.

Warren's body was being held at peak desire for so long it hurt. He had a hard time catching his breath as sensations rippled through him. God, he wanted release or Ztar to enter him…anything but this holding pattern.

"Do you want me to take you?" Ztar whispered in Warren's ear.

Oh, how much his body wanted that! But not the rest of him. His rational mind held on by a thread – resist! He would not ask the Emperor for that.

"No!" he said through gritted teeth.

"Very well," and Ztar began to let him come down slowly, tenderly.

Warren was panting and he was drenched in sweat. He hated Ztar for this, yet his body had reveled in the Emperor's touch. Warren felt he'd split in two from the conflict raging within him. God, Ztar was so good at this game.

Warren was exhausted, physically and mentally. As Ztar worked his magic in reverse, heavy eyelids couldn't resist drifting off as the last of the hormones and sexual energy left him.

Ztar looked down at Archangel. He had mentally coaxed him to succumb to sleep. His Archangel was fighting so hard to not give in to him. "Don't fight so fiercely, my beautiful Archangel," Ztar whispered to the sleeping human. "Just let me sweep you away! Welcome what I'm offer! This needn't be so hard."

###

The next two days passed swiftly for Ztar, Warren, and Sukja alike. Each wrapped up in their various responsibilities. Planning for the grand reception continued at a fast pace. Sukja approved the three plans Warren had presented and the palace's head staff dove into making those plans reality.

The inner circle was scheduled to arrive late morning. That kept Ztar and Sukja away from the grand reception planning and focused entirely on details for the constitutional meeting.

While Ztar and Sukja were busy elsewhere, Warren had some time to think, which for Warren sometimes wasn't the best thing. The past two nights with Ztar were extremely difficult. Ztar still wasn't completing the sex act. Warren knew what the Emperor wanted him to ask. Warren wasn't going to. But how long was the Emperor willing to play this game? How long before he took what he really wanted? Who would win this showdown?

The real question was how long could Warren hold out, assuming Ztar didn't use mental control. If he did, Warren didn't stand a chance of resisting. But Ztar didn't appear to be using that weapon here at the palace. At least not that Warren could detect. As a result, they hadn't yet consummated their new life at the palace.

Warren preferred not to dwell on how close he'd come to asking Ztar to fuck him. Ztar nearly got what he wanted a couple times now. The Turzent was very, very good in bed and he knew Warren's body extremely well. Warren shook his head to stop the thoughts about nights in the Emperor's chambers.

On the positive side, Ztar had kept everything in his chambers, not Warren's – a huge relief. Warren's chambers remained his, untouched by the Emperor. But again, how much longer would that last?

Warren sighed deeply. His thoughts and wanderings had brought him back to the private section of the palace, heading back to his chambers as mid afternoon approached. Some tasks still awaited his attention and they would help distract him from his mental turmoil. Warren shoved aside dwelling on Ztar as he approached his chamber door.

###

As the inner circle wrapped up their meeting, Ztar couldn't have been more pleased. The group had formulated all the major points and many of the nuances for their Imperial constitution. It was a blend of ideas and ideals from many cultures and regimes. Ztar and his successors remained the ultimate authority of the Empire, but day-to-day, if all worked well, the Empire would function as a democracy. They did their very best to avoid the biggest pitfalls of democracy by allowing for the Imperial authority to step in when necessary. No form of government is without flaws, but they had worked hard to anticipate and counter-balance those weaknesses.

General Gtar-Cro was the last of the inner five to depart. Ztar and he stood talking on the shuttle pad.

"We've done good work, Emperor!" Gtar-Cro, too, was very pleased.

"Yes, my old friend, we have." Ztar laid a hand on the General's shoulder.

"It will be interesting to see what the law writers do with the documents. I do have to say, though, that law writers make me nervous. They can take the simplest idea and make it so complex the meaning is lost," Gtar-Cro remarked with a hearty laugh.

Ztar chuckled in agreement and nodded. "The hardest part yet may be reading and understanding our own constitution!"

Gtar-Cro stopped laughing and looked seriously at his Emperor. "I don't need to say this again, but I will. There are dangerous times ahead for our Empire. We need to be as thorough in our preparation for that as we are in crafting our constitution."

"I do understand. Many will not welcome this change. There will be those that resist with force. But I have to believe that the majority will welcome it. It's for them that I will press forward despite the risks of internal unrest."

"We must be vigilant, Emperor, particularly after the announcement. Are you certain you wish to announce so early? The documents will likely not be complete – law writers are not a fast-working lot."

"And I don't want them to be with our new constitution. It needs to be thoroughly written. Announcing the direction we're taking the Empire need not wait on the final document. It will allow us time to gage the response and perhaps discover where some of the resistance may lie _before_ we enact the constitution. But I haven't yet made my final decision whether or not to announce at the grand reception."

"I ask that you decide soon, my Emperor – give us time to fully prepare if that is your decision."

"I will decide within three days, General." Ztar turned toward Gtar-Cro's shuttle, indicating the conversation at least for now was over.

"As always, my Emperor, you have my complete support. MI will do everything possible to ensure a smooth transition."

"This, too, I already know, my friend," Ztar told his long-time chief of military intelligence with a smile.

With that, Gtar-Cro entered his shuttle and it lifted off. Ztar headed back into the palace, contemplating what he and his general had just discussed. Were they prepared? Ztar knew there would be surprises and unexpected ramifications from their new government. All that they could do was plan and anticipate as much as possible and deal with the rest as it presented itself.

As Ztar turned the last corner toward his chambers, he saw Archangel just outside his own chambers. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of his Archangel. All thoughts of the constitution faded quickly. It had been so long since he had truly been with his beloved human. Desire surged within him.

Warren looked up when he heard footsteps.

"Emperor." Warren let his tone be flat.

"My Archangel!" Ztar's warm welcome contrasted starkly to Archangel's unemotional greeting.

"The meeting is over? All went well?" Warren inquired. He knew how important these constitution meetings were for the Empire's people and hoped things were progressing as planned.

Ztar stopped next to Archangel, the fever inside growing steadily. "Yes, it went exceedingly well. We are ready to turn the drafts over to the law writers as I hoped."

Warren saw the desire in Ztar's eyes – he never could hide that from Warren. With great effort, Warren suppressed a shudder that threatened to run through him. Images of the last few nights sprang up. Not again!

"I have a lot to get done yet today. Sukja has been true to his word – he won't let me have time to be bored." Warren activated the door to his chambers and entered his room. Would he be so lucky as to escape that easily?

After a brief hesitation, Ztar followed Archangel into his chambers. He wanted Archangel. Now. No more teaching, no more waiting for Archangel to ask – he wanted to take things to their natural conclusion.

'Damn!' Warren thought. He didn't want this right now. Nighttime was bad enough, but in the afternoon! And he certainly didn't want anything to transpire in his own chambers. He'd risk Ztar's anger on that one.

Warren continued walking farther into his chambers. He feared if he stopped, Ztar would grab him in an embrace. Then he decided to address the issue head on and he turned to the Emperor. "Ztar, I don't want to do what you want – not right now," he said firmly.

"I do. You will, too, once we start," Ztar's responded with an encouraging voice as he moved closer to Archangel. Desire was burning in him.

Warren swore silently, knowing once Ztar had him in bed, what he said would be true. The past several nights proved how skilled the Emperor was in creating sexual heat. He stood his ground as Ztar approached.

The empathic connection told Ztar that Archangel was feeling a high degree of anxiety. Should he pursue this? Archangel's body would respond to him, that he knew without doubt. But Archangel's mind was a different story. Would that ever change? At what point should he simply accept that Archangel may never desire him unless Ztar pushed the point through arousal and mental manipulation? He had been very patient since arriving at Sat'rey, but his patience was wearing thin. He decided to pursue Archangel unless the human somehow failed to respond to his seductions. 'But with control, Emperor. Remember that disastrous first night,' he reminded himself.

Ztar stood very close before the object of his desire. Reaching out, he laid his hand behind Archangel's neck and held it gently. "I want you."

That familiar sensation ran through Warren like a zinging energy wave. The Emperor desired his body and he wasn't allowed to resist – trapped!

Ztar's empathic connection telegraphed Archangel's reaction. It was the same sensation he felt so many times in the past. Previous telepathic readings had told Ztar that the sensation came hand-in-hand with Archangel's feeling that his body was once again all that someone wanted him for; that they were going to take and do what they wanted, and he was helpless to stop it. Ztar hesitated at that.

"It will be pleasurable, Archangel, you know that." Ztar eyes locked on the human's. He sent memories of those pleasures to remind Archangel as he moved them a couple steps closer to the bed.

Warren trembled as the sensations of sexual delight washed through his mind. He knew instantly what Ztar was doing. Yet the Emperor wasn't using that ability to control Warren, only to replay sensations of previous nights.

"I don't want to!" Warren managed to choke out as Ztar swept him with another reminder. Warren's knees nearly gave out with the sensations. He fought against the arousal that had begun.

"No, my Archangel. The time has come." Ztar slid his other arm behind Warren's back and drew him close. Already part of Warren wanted Ztar's hand to move toward that sensitive spot at the wing base. 'God damn it!'

"Remember how good it felt the other night? We can enjoy that again, but take it to conclusion," Ztar breathed the temptation into Warren's ear.

"But you said – a new life! Start over. This feels…like the old life!" Warren argued between breaths now coming fast and shallow. As Warren tried to keep his mind focused, he pushed back from Ztar's chest.

"I didn't not say the new life was without this. Our times together here will be leisurely and filled with pleasure for you, not like before – that I promise you!" Ztar gently brushed Warren's cheek with his lips.

"You can't promise that – three weeks ago you were abusive on the Mi-Lartui!" Warren inhaled sharply as Ztar's fingers titillated that spot at the wing base and heat filled his groin.

'God, that feels good!' Warren caught himself. 'Shit, what am I thinking!!'

Ztar smiled down at Archangel. He felt the desire escalating in Archangel despite the words coming out of his companion's mouth.

"You can't control yourself!" Warren tried again as Ztar eased them closer to the bed. Should he physically fight Ztar off? Yet that hadn't worked in the past either. Ztar always got what he wanted in the end.

Ztar closed his eyes briefly. "That I regret more than you can know. I'm still unsure what happened. But if I lose control again, I will not punish you for stopping me – that I swear."

Warren was not convinced. This was still the old Ztar. Sukja didn't know what he was talking about when he said the Emperor was changing. Warren was still being forced to have sex, no matter how Ztar tried to disguise it with seduction.

"No more talking, my Archangel." Ztar's voice was thick with lust.

Ztar took in Archangel's mouth with a deep kiss. He again reminded his companion of the pleasures he could provide. Archangel moaned and trembled in his arms.

They were now pressed against the side of Warren's bed. He tried to regain his faculties, but Ztar's lips were on his and the Emperor's hands continued to explore the erogenous points on his wings, sending shivers of pleasure running through him. He managed to pull away from Ztar's mouth.

"No," Warren said, but his voice didn't sound convincing even to him.

'Let yourself enjoy, my Archangel,' came the mental reply.

Ztar pulled him tighter, pressing his groin against Warren. The Emperor was very aroused.

"I want to enter you!" Ztar whispered in Warren's ear as he kissed down his neck. "Deeply, for a long time. I need you!"

Warren tried to resist the continued sensations Ztar was flooding him with. Still no mental control, but Warren felt himself drowning in the combined mental and physical deluge.

'Please don't force me!' Warren sent the thought in desperation as he felt the last of his resistance slipping away. Ztar's only response was to take Warren's mouth in a savage kiss.

Warren held on to resistance by a thread, grasping at any argument. But lucid thought was nearly impossible as the lust-induced fog thickened.

"Give me…more time!" he managed to get out between kisses.

"Sometimes we all need a little push!" Ztar replied as he gently lowered Warren down on the bed. "I feel your desire, Archangel. Let me satisfy it!"

Warren could no longer focus on anything but the sensations pouring over him. His body was now demanding more from Ztar. He tried pushing Ztar off him in one last attempt to break free. But as always, the superior strength of the Turzent prevented that. And when Ztar's hand moved to his groin, Warren lost himself to Ztar's passion. It had all happened so fast!

"Enjoy, Archangel. Just let go!" Ztar urged in a husky whisper.

Clothes were ripped away quickly by Ztar with skill developed from years of experience and he descended upon Warren. The Emperor was all over his body, stimulating just the right points – _all_ the right points. Heat and desire replaced any thoughts of stopping Ztar.

Ztar had what he wanted. Archangel was on fire and now nothing stood between him and his desire. The nights up until now teaching Archangel what Ztar could do were paying off. The human was trembling with longing. The mental reminders were no longer necessary. Ztar had won the battle of wills. He focused on Archangel, further building the desire not gradually but urgently. Ztar wanted to take Archangel too much for slow sensuality. Hands caressed and massaged and stroked every erogenous spot that the Emperor had discovered over the past four years.

Warren burned! He found Ztar's mouth and took it savagely, grabbing Ztar and pulling him down hard. Wings spread wide across the width of the bed and trailing off the sides. He wanted those strong hands to caress the wings and drive him mad with pleasure. As Ztar responded to the invitation Warren had one thought and one thought only. The nights of unfinished sex were not where this was going to end. Warren wanted the release of Ztar inside him. He wanted to cum and have Ztar cum in him.

Ztar's natural lubrication meant there was no need for anything artificial – one of nature's adaptations of Turzent physiology. The human's anatomy, however, required a gradual penetration to avoid too much pain or even injury. Even in the heat of desire, Ztar was now careful to inflict as little discomfort as possible, but some pain was unavoidable. Ztar knew that the heat he had ignited in Archangel's body took the edge off what pain there was. And sometimes a little pain can be stimulating!

Warren trembled with ecstasy as Ztar raised his hips slightly off the bed and entered him, his existence reduced to all-consuming carnal pleasures running through him. Pleasure so intense it almost hurt. He wanted to be thrust into hard, deep, long.

With each thrust, Ztar plunged ever deeper until he was fully penetrated. Only then did he thrust full length over and over again, into his beloved companion. He continued for a long time, never wanting the feeling of moving inside Archangel to end. And when he could wait no longer, he released into Archangel.

Sated, he turned his attentions to fulfilling Archangel's need, applying the last titillations needed to bring Archangel to orgasm. But Ztar wasn't finished yet, and he rebuilt the fervid passion and took Archangel a second time; again holding back, to feel himself within Archangel for as long as possible, then he released again. Multiple orgasms was another Turzent ability for both genders.

Completely spent, he laid atop his Archangel and ran his hands over the moist skin. Archangel was breathing hard, his eyes closed tight, and his body subtly trembling beneath the Emperor.

"See my Archangel, we can both have pleasure. This is not a bad thing!" Ztar said gently when he could speak again. Ztar ran his hands softly over the still outstretched wings and nuzzled Archangel. Ztar basked in the afterglow the amazing feelings and sensations he only experienced with the human. By the gods, he loved everything about his companion!

It took a couple minutes for Warren's mind to function again, and even then the thinking was mushy. Warren had a hard time finding his voice. The sexual heat was still dissipating from his body. He was sweaty, exhausted, and growing angry again.

"You still…you forced me. I- I didn't want to…" he managed to choke out. He hadn't wanted sex, but as always Ztar got what he desired and Warren felt violated yet again. Nothing had changed in this supposed new life.

"I led, you followed. I did not force you – just put all the pieces in motion." Ztar countered quietly.

"I said no – you wouldn't stop! You haven't changed," He spat, his anger mounting.

"My Archangel, your body wants what I offer – you cannot deny it. You took too much pleasure in what we just did to say otherwise." Ztar was surprised over how quickly Archangel's ire returned. He had thought the intensity of the sex would have dispelled it.

Ztar's words only made Warren's anger burned hotter. Is that how Ztar justified forcing sex?

"Get off me!"

Ztar sat up, but he remained astride Warren's thighs.

"Archangel, please be calm," Ztar used his most soothing voice.

"I said get off – now!" And Warren used all his strength to attempt to dismount the Emperor. Ztar grasped his wrists. There simply was not enough strength in Warren's body to physically throw the Turzent from him.

Ztar's felt his own anger flare, but he held it in check. Ztar didn't want this to turn into something ugly.

"I did not force you. You enjoyed me as much as I enjoyed you. Why do you deny it?"

Warren's blood was boiling. Ztar was twisting the situation to his warped perspective and it was infuriating! He managed to wrest his wrists free; or more likely, Ztar allowed him to break free.

"You raped me, Ztar! Just like you've done for four years. You haven't changed!" He wanted the words to cut deeply.

The accusation hurt. It was untrue! Why did Archangel continue to fight him? He had just enjoyed himself – he knew that through their connection. Ztar doubled his effort to control his rising anger.

"I think you make excuses for enjoying your time with me. You cannot say I used any mental control over you. I am guilty of reminding you of how good I can make you feel. I am also guilty of pushing the point. You were hesitant, yes. But I felt how much you wanted my touch. I did _not_ rape you."

Did Ztar really believe that?! Warren found the idea very disturbing. What was the Emperor's definition of rape? Warren had stated clearly he didn't want sex, but sex is what they had. That is rape! This whole farce about a new life was just that – nothing had changed. Ztar hadn't changed.

Ztar stared into Archangel's eyes. He read the thoughts behind the accusation. Archangel's interpretation of what had just transpired differed from Ztar's. Where Ztar saw seduction and hesitant but eventual submission, Archangel saw manipulation and domination.

"We clearly do not have the same interpretation of things, Archangel," Ztar admitted. "I am sorry for that. But what we did was not rape."

Archangel tried to sit up, and Ztar allowed it. The human's eyes sparked with anger.

"Why not? I said no and you didn't stop! That's rape in my book."

"I've had other lovers who told me no, who resisted, but then willing submitted – and were happy they did. Your resistance was no different." Ztar explained.

"I tried to resist, but you used telepathy!" It infuriated Warren that Ztar wouldn't admit his obvious guilt.

"Did I control your mind? No. Did you not kiss me? Yes! Did you not pull me to you, wanting me to take you? Enjoy the pleasures I gave you? Want more? Yes to all! Does that sound like rape?"

"You had the advantage of pushing those sensations into my head knowing what would happen."

"You knew what I was doing and you still allowed yourself to be swept away," Ztar pointed out.

"_Allowed_ myself?! Do you have any idea how powerful you are? That excuse doesn't hold up, Ztar. No one could resist you. It gives you license to rape!"

'God, this man is either clueless or delusional!' Warren concluded to himself.

"Archangel, your mind is strong. You can resist, but you didn't want to whether you admit it or not. You wanted an excuse to let it happen. Your body responded to mine – you wanted more."

But it was the _reason_ his body responded that was the difference – and it was against what Warren willingly had wanted. Why wouldn't Ztar understand that? The Turzent saw what he wanted to see and his circular reasoning was getting them nowhere.

"You're twisting everything! I said no at least twice, you didn't stop. You're the telepath – you should have known I didn't want to."

Ztar sighed heavily. "I wasn't reading you. The empathic feelings said you wanted more. And now you say I should have known. First you don't want me to read your thoughts. Then you do. What am I suppose to do? You can't have it both ways, Archangel!"

"No is no, Ztar! No matter how you sugar-coat or try to justify, I didn't want to have sex and that's what we had. Pure and simple!" Warren felt he was gaining no ground with Ztar. Why was he even bothering? He had one more thing to say first then he'd end the meaningless argument. "It's all a moot point, though, since I'm not even a person by the terms of the Accord. Just a whore you own to abuse and assault without consequence!"

Archangel's word stung deeply. By the gods, would the Accord forever stand between them? Yet it was the only thing keeping Archangel in Ztar's arms. Fear then gripped Ztar as he remembered the Accord's time would come to an end sooner than Archangel knew. How would he ever survive it if he lost Archangel?

"Nothing is simple when it comes to you, Archangel," Ztar replied, ignoring that last half of Archangel's declaration. "You clearly enjoyed yourself, then accuse me of forcing you. What am I to believe?"

Ztar left the bed abruptly and pulled on his pants. He was being overwhelmed by emotions and he needed to leave.

"Archangel, you sent many mixed signals I had to sort through. Perhaps I made the wrong decision just now. If I did, please forgive me. If you truly feel I just raped you, my heart sinks. That was not my intent. I only wanted us to enjoy each other."

The voice was unsteady Warren noted as Ztar looked down at him.

"You simply seemed to need a firm push. That's all I did! A firm push. And we did enjoy each other. I felt that in your body and in our connection. I love you, Archangel. I wouldn't hurt you intentionally."

"Only keep me against my will, right?" Warren shot back and saw Ztar physically flinch. 'Got you!'

'By the gods, I don't know how to reach him! Everything I do backfires. If he could just not hate me so intensely. This is never going to work, is it mighty Emperor? You destroyed any hope of that long ago!' Ztar swallowed hard as feelings of desperation, longing, fear, and frustration collided.

'Is that moisture in Ztar's eyes?' Warren wondered, staring coldly at Ztar. It almost appeared that the man was truly upset and it gave Warren sudden pause. Nothing in the Emperor's body language said he was lying or being deceptive. Hurt and confusion could be read in the brown eyes. Warren simply sat in the bed. He didn't quite know what to think anymore. He was beginning to doubt himself.

"I will not ask you to stay with me tonight," Ztar said heavily as he grabbed up the rest of his clothes. "But I will come to you the next night and the night after that, asking for the same thing and showing you how wonderful it can be. Just be clear in your mind and body what you want," he told Warren and then he left.

Warren stared at the door the Emperor exited. His mind was jumbled! He sat in his bed that was no longer untainted by the Emperor. He let the events and Ztar's words repeat themselves several times in his mind. After four years of submission to Ztar's wishes, Warren still maintained the belief that coerced submission was equal to rape. The mere act of not resisting didn't mean that he was a willing participant.

But now Warren was being so overwhelmed by the desire Ztar created that he _was_ participating, even encouraging Ztar at the height of arousal. But it was still rape, wasn't it? Warren found he wasn't so sure anymore. The uncertainty frightened him. Was he falling so under the Emperor's control that he now doubted even that simple idea?

What left Warren so utterly confused was that when Ztar had sex with him, it _did_ feel good. Better than good! His body did want whatever this man was willing to do to him; cruelty aside, of course. Was Ztar right after all? On the other hand, coercion is coercion and that's what Ztar had done to him with the mental "reminders" and Earth's safety hanging over his head.

Then there was the whole issue of Ztar being a man, and Warren wasn't gay or even bi – he knew that without a doubt. He wasn't yet questioning that, at least. But if the sex was good, did it matter? From Warren's reaction, apparently not. His head began to ache from the conflicting feelings. Warren was tired from the sex and his eyes heavy with need for sleep. He curled up in the bed and allowed himself to drift off. The internal conflicts would keep.

###

The next two days were spent wrapped in planning and details of the grand reception. Sukja had approved the three draft plans from Delme, Moit'de, and Rja. Delme was then authorized to forward the food list to Niat in Yaunra for procurement. That same list and menu was passed along to the Emperor's beverage house sommelier for her recommendations. These and dozens of other details filled Sukja's day, along with his regular duties for the Emperor.

Ztar hadn't yet decided whether or not he would announce the new constitution during the reception. If he did, that whole subevent would also need to be planned. So little time, so much to do!

Sukja returned from another meeting with the head of security, Cronit Lar. Lar was provided with every minute detail of the event and that would continue as plans evolved and were finalized. With so many of the Empire's key people in one location, security was a major concern. Lar was very good at his job. Not once in all the years since the palace was built had there been a serious breach of security. Lar was proud of that fact and Sukja knew it was a record that Lar worked tirelessly to maintain.

In turn, Lar worked with planetary security, air and space traffic control, and various other law enforcement agencies both on and off planet to coordinate the huge undertaking of ensuring the safety of roughly 500 of the Empire's most prominent citizens and dignitaries.

With security in highly competent hands, Sukja did not worry about that aspect. No, it was the little things that tended to go awry during big events, or things that you have no control over. You had to have contingency plans for contingency plans. What if a rare summer storm hit the palace that night? It had happened, even though it was the dry season. What if one of the cooling systems gave out? You need to have maintenance on standby and backup cooling pods. What if this doesn't arrive in time, or that fails the quality checks, or a key staff member falls ill the day of the event? Sukja sweated the details for good reason. That is usually what goes wrong.

Archangel was tremendous help. Sukja could turn over a task and it was done. No excuses. No procrastination. No ego issues. It simply was done and done thoroughly. If Sukja could clone Archangel he'd create a whole palace staff with the human's get-it-done attitude. Not that the palace staff was difficult, they were very good at doing their jobs and but sometimes they were pressed by other concerns and priorities. There were times when Sukja's priorities clashed with staff priorities.

Sukja never forgot there was still a class difference between palace staff and Imperial staff. While no one would usually acknowledge it, it was fact. Palace staff often carried a bit of a chip on their shoulder in regard to Imperial staff. Sometimes rightfully so; other times not so justifiable. But Archangel seemed to transcend that class gap. The fact that Archangel was winning friends among the top palace staff bode well for him working effectively with them. Except Rja, of course.

Sukja was keenly aware that Archangel was under a lot of stress with the transition. So he balanced giving the human enough to keep him busy without overloading him. Archangel, though, checked off tasks at a fast pace, and Sukja was pressed to keep his plate even half full.

It was a new experience for Sukja to have an assistant. He had worked alone serving Ztar all his previous years. Sukja admitted the new situation was to his liking. He could get use to having someone to share the burden and the work. Archangel was a good match for Sukja's management style – he followed orders. From what Sukja knew of Archangel's background, it fit. Warriors follow orders or they may not make it home. Archangel did as instructed, but also knew how to improvise when necessary. His quick intellect served Archangel well as he navigated the unknowns of his new world and life. Sukja continued to be impressed with how Archangel analyzed new situations rapidly and drew solid conclusions, developing modes of operation to accomplish what needed to be done.

Yes, Archangel was a perfect assistant for Sukja. Turn over an assignment and Sukja didn't have to think about it again.

###

Warren was frustrated with the latest task Sukja had given him: work with the entertainment staff on music and ambiance. The conversation thus far had not gone well. Whatever species the uppity man was, Warren hoped he didn't represent his entire kind.

"So you're telling me that the theme just won't work for you." Warren had wanted to be certain he understood the man correctly.

"That is correct. New Beginnings just doesn't translate into music and atmosphere appropriate to the reception," came the stilted reply from across the small table in an equally small office.

"So you're suggesting we change the theme of the grand reception?" Warren asked, careful not to let exasperation creep into his voice.

"That is correct. I don't wish to be difficult, but it won't work as the Emperor would expect."

The man in front of Warren was short, squat, and reminded Warren of a mole. Not a flattering description, he admitted, but accurate. To make matters worse, he was dressed in bright color combinations that would make a child cringe.

Warren tried again. "So to make sure the music and lightening are perfect for the reception, we should change the _Emperor's_ theme." Warren emphasized "Emperor's" hoping to make a point.

"That is what I'm suggesting, yes." The mole man named Wxia'ne confirmed as if it were the only course of action a reasonable person would take.

Warren sighed internally. "I think I speak for the Emperor when I say the theme will not change."

The mole man sighed with great drama. "Then I cannot be held accountable for the results."

Warren thought for a moment. This man was palace staff, so was obviously very good at his job. What could possibly be going on with the attitude? Warren had detected pride and professionalism mixed with the arrogance within Wxia'ne. Perhaps an angle there?

"I understand completely the artistic considerations you must struggle with when a theme is thrust upon you. While we know the theme for the evening won't change, perhaps your experience could help us reinterpret it. I would be interested in your thoughts down that line of thinking." Warren smiled and put on his best 'I am intensely interested in your highly regarded opinion on this matter' face he had used in many a business meeting. He opened up his body language to further suggest that he welcomed all ideas.

Wxia'ne eyed Warren carefully for several seconds, wariness flickering across the musician's face. But Warren maintained the welcoming stance, leaning forward slightly as if waiting with bated breath for Wxia'ne's next words.

Wxia'ne relaxed and leaned back in a superior posture that seemed to transcend species differences. "Well, as I envision it, we could take our cues from Rtentaris. You do know who he is, yes?"

Warren hadn't a clue, but nodded anyway.

"One could interpret his compositions as new beginnings. Not in the true sense, but metaphorically. If we run with the idea, it could lead to a fresh and unexpected approach for the music and atmosphere." From that point on, it was like Wxia'ne was talking more to himself than Warren. He went on to explain the nuisances of the metaphorical new beginnings in certain scores of music.

Warren feigned rapt interest and nodded approvingly when it seemed appropriate. This man was in a world of his own! When the man finally wrapped up his soliloquy, Warren spoke.

"That could be just what the Emperor had in mind! I am excited to present your interpretation to Sukja. Can I have your written plan by tomorrow?"

Wxia'ne looked flattered, or at less pleased with Warren's reaction.

"Of course. I take my work seriously, Archangel. If Sukja needs the plan by then, it will be done!"

"We are lucky to have you on staff, Wxia'ne. Tomorrow then." Warren rose and smiled down at the smaller man. The man only nodded. He was already absorbed in his PI, likely starting his report.

Once Warren was out of Wxia'ne's presence, he smiled and shook his head so hard that his golden hair was tousled. 'Artists!' he thought. It was just too comical that the stereo-typical temperamental artist found more than one home in the galaxy.

###

Warren wasn't smiling that night with Ztar. Again the Emperor tantalized his body and seemed determined to cause frustration and turmoil in Warren.

This night, before Ztar got too far, Warren challenged him again. He was still upset and angry about the other afternoon when Ztar forced him to have sex. At least that was Warren's interpretation. Ztar hadn't seen it that way. Warren was actually surprised at himself over his anger. After four years of submitting to Ztar, he thought he'd be beyond getting angry – apparently not. 'A good sign,' he told himself, 'Ztar hasn't killed your spirit entirely.'

"I told you before, Archangel, I will continue to ask for what I want. I will continue to show you how pleasurable it can be between us." Ztar said matter-of-factly to the human lying pinned between the Turzent and the mattress.

"I got the message already, Ztar! Enough is enough. You can take what you want, I will not resist. Just as I haven't resisted you for four years. Why go through this charade?"

"That's the point, Archangel. I don't want to take. I don't want you to merely not resist. I want to you to participate willingly."

How many times and in how many ways did Warren have to say it? He could not give the Emperor what he wanted in that regard. Earth was a stake and Warren did as he must. That was all he was capable of giving. 'God, this is maddening!'

Ztar moved his hand over a wing, hitting one of the spots, sending shivers through Warren. He gritted his teeth. "Ztar, listen to me carefully. Just let this go. You're not making either of us happy!"

Ztar didn't say a word, but ran his hand deftly over Warren's chest, and then lowered himself for a kiss. Warren wanted to push him away, but four years of conditioning and he allowed the kiss. And really, what choice did he have?

As Ztar gently kissed Archangel's lips, his hand slid to Warren's groin. Warren inhaled sharply. Ztar was so skilled, every where he touched, pleasured followed. Warren's mind shouted resist – don't enjoy, but his body said more. And so their sexual dance of wills began again.

###

In a final comlink with his inner circle, Ztar had made the decision. They would announce the creation of a new Imperial constitution at the grand reception. It was a big step and there would be no turning back afterward. The group debated and argued amicably about how much to say and what not to say. The wordsmithing would begin with Ztar and pass through his inner circle for review and refinement. All had agreed to reveal enough in the announcement to create anticipation and excitement, but not so much as to lock them into any particular details. Concept and vision, not specifics and particulars.

As soon as the comlink ended, Ztar summoned Sukja to his office.

"Emperor," the attendant greeted as he entered the room and took his seat across the desk from Ztar.

"Sukja, the decision has been made. We will announce the new government at the reception."

"Very good, my Emperor! Do you have any preferences yet on how you would like that to happen?" Sukja already had several thoughts about how it should be done, but this was Ztar's show and his desires must come first.

"Only that it won't be a long announcement. I want to build excitement for our future, but I'll give no details. I'd like it toward the middle of the reception so as to not draw out the time for people to press me with questions afterward. I want to enjoy myself that evening."

Neither Ztar nor Sukja heard the staff member walking down hallway who slowed as he approached the open doorway of Ztar's office.

"This will be an event marked in history, my Emperor. What you and your top advisors are building will be remembered for generations as the greatest moment in our Empire's history," Sukja couldn't be more proud of Ztar.

"I hope you are right, Sukja. A more democratic Empire should strengthen us as long as we proceed with care and diligence. Empowering our people may carry risks, but I see those as far outweighed by the rewards. I hope we've created a constitution that blends all the best of dozens of governments from across the Empire and the galaxy, even from outside our galaxy," Ztar said in reference to the Shi'ar government, which had first inspired him.

"And now our New Beginnings theme takes on a whole other meaning. This will truly be a new beginning for your empire."

"Our Empire, Sukja. It belongs to every citizen – that is the concept."

Sukja saw the excitement and pride in Ztar's face. This man who many years ago was a demanding, often times cruel conqueror, was now excited about transferring most of his power back to the very people he had conquered. An amazing transformation!

"I have much more to plan now and should not waste a moment," Sukja stood and then looked Ztar squarely in the eyes. "I am more proud and honored to be in your service than ever before, my Emperor."

The man that had been listening outside the door turned and walked quietly back down the hall.

Ztar smiled broadly at his attendant and friend. "The honor is mine, Sukja. For I have a feeling that if not for your gentle guidance and faith in me all these years, we would not be having this conversation right now."

Sukja nodded once and exited. There had been nothing left to say by either man.

Ztar immediately began the task of drafting the announcement. He was not one to procrastinate. Only twenty-four days before the reception. This may be one of the most important events of his life and the future of the Empire, and he wanted his words to be worthy.

###

When Warren woke, there was a familiar, itchy feeling in his wings. He rose stealthy out of Ztar's bed and looked down. Sure enough, a couple contour feathers where scattered in the bed.

'Great!' he fumed. Now, not only was he having to endure Ztar's nightly erotic provocations, but he was molting.

Ztar moved in the bed, but didn't wake, so Warren picked up the feathers, slipped out of Ztar's chambers to return to his own. It had been summer on Earth when Ztar retrieved him, so the molt was coming a bit early. But stress can trigger the process and there had been no lack of stress in Warren's life the past 20 days.

Molting was one of the drawbacks to having wings. Normally, he molted once a year in the fall. Thank goodness it wasn't twice, like in some birds. When your wings are as large as his, there are a lot of feathers. Back at the X-mansion, he took the annual teasing in stride when he'd loose feathers here and there. The whole process usually took about 6-7 weeks. About mid-point was the heaviest molting, leaving him feeling listless, cranky, and ravenously hungry. He had intense cravings for anything with amino acids – key ingredients to feather formation. Warren wasn't a big red meat eater, so generally he looked to legumes, fish, beans, eggs. Would he find on Sat'rey the foods that met his increased nutritional requirements?

During his year on the Mi-Lartui, Warren's whole system was thrown off and he never had a true molt. He had lost feathers almost continuously, likely due to the intense stress. Once he had returned to Earth and things settled down a bit, he had his first real molt in over a year and a half. By that time, his wings were an outward sign of the incredible stress he had endured. Making matters worse, he had not performed a thorough preening on any regular basis on Ztar's ship. He just hadn't care enough, especially the last two agonizing months of confinement when the war prevented stopovers for his flight time. All in all, by the time that year was over, his wings were a mess.

Since coming to Sat'rey, Warren hadn't been very good about keeping up his feathered appendages either – just the minimum maintenance. His wings were already beginning to show the signs of neglect. The fact that he was flying so much more than he could when on the Mi-Lartui meant the deterioration in feather condition was accelerated. Ztar's constant attentions didn't help. Lying on his back under Ztar was always hard on the feathers. Many splits and other damage was done in a short period of time, making daily preening even more of a necessity.

Preening is key to maintaining healthy feathers. Poorly maintained feathers interfere with flight. Feathers have parallel barbs attached to the feather shaft, and many barbules like tiny hooks that latch the barbs together. When barbules detach, a split appears in the vane of the feather. They need to be preened to realign the barbs and barbules and reattach the barbules and mend splits.

And if preening is necessary during normal times, it is vital during molting. The new feathers are wrapped in a tough sheath that must be removed so the feather can open. With the onset of molting, preening was something Warren must do or he would eventually be unable to fly.

He thought back to those first couple years after his wings had come in. Warren had been so clueless! He had to figure out on his own how to care for his wings by reading about birds. It had taken Warren a bit of trial and error when he first attempted to preen, but he figured out just the right finger motion against the barbs to realign and fix splits. But if he procrastinated too long, it could take hours to repair all the damage. The harness he was forced to wear was brutal on the feathers. Thus he'd learned early on to do a little maintenance every day.

Warren could recall vividly the day when he first read about molting and the horror he had felt. Would that happen to him? It almost had to! Feathers only lasted so long before they were worn out. How would he contain the feathers that would drop away without warning? What would it feel like? Would he be able to fly? Some birds can't during the molt. So much to deal with; so many fears of discovery; so alone!

The books also told him about how birds used preening oil and the necessity of its application. Nearly all birds have an uropygial gland that secretes a special oil. They use that oil to condition the feathers, keeping them supple and strong and preventing them from drying out. Nature played a sick little joke on him. Warren didn't have such a gland, so he had to find a substitute.

But where to find what nature hadn't given him? A trip to the local pet shop bird aisle and he found feather conditioners. But the bottles were so small and his wings were so large! Embarrassed, his first purchase was only a couple bottles. On to the next pet shop to buy a couple more. Then came the frustration of trying to effectively reach the area of the wings closest to his body – it just wasn't happening. He remembered the tears of frustration and anger that God had decided that a human should have wings.

Like the year on the Mi-Lartui, he had no preening oil on Sat'rey. Warren sat down heavily on an overstuffed chair. He would have to talk with Sukja about this issue or query the computer, or both. To make matters worse, he'd be at the height of his molt when the grand reception was scheduled.

'Perfect timing!' he thought sarcastically. 'Tired and cranky just when a few hundred people are descending on the palace and I'll be expected to play happy host!'

With nothing else to do in the pre-dawn hour, Warren researched his plight on the computer. After a lot of dead-ends and misdirects, he found something that could work, assuming it wasn't toxic to his system. It was called l'daxiam oil from a planet that had feathered creatures similar to Earth's. Aside from that possibility, the only other option was going to Earth to get what was needed. A definite discussion with Sukja was in order.

A glance out the window and Warren realized that the sun was close to breaking the horizon. He quickly changed and walked out onto his balcony. The air had not cooled much over night. According to Moit'de, they were heading into the hottest time of the year. The heat of summer was the most uncomfortable time of year for Warren. Wings were a great insulator in winter, but could be hot in summer. Thank goodness for air conditioning. In his early years when much of the time his wings were strapped tight to his body, the summer heat was often nearly intolerable. Thankfully, those days were long past.

Up into the brightening sky he flew. Not a cloud to be seen that Sat'rey morning. The dry season was upon them and many cloudless days were ahead, the gardener had explained. Warren felt a feather let loose as he climbed. Another couple weeks and he will have lost enough feathers to temporarily interfere with his maneuverability. For now, though, he was still at peak. As he rode the air currents, he let all thoughts fall away and he simply enjoyed his morning exercise.

###

Sukja had also risen early. He heard Archangel's balcony door open through his own already wide open doors. He watched Archangel climb into the morning sky and sighed. What must it be like – that kind of freedom? He wished he could experience it. Ztar told him what it felt like when the Emperor voyeuristically experienced flight through this mental connection with the human, but said the secondary experience likely didn't compare to the real thing.

As the human disappeared from sight, Sukja stepped out onto his balcony with his cup of Tanquer root tea. There was much to do today, but he didn't feel motivated at the moment. He was troubled about the situation between Ztar and Archangel. Sukja wondered how much longer before Archangel confronted Ztar about the fate of Earth under the new constitution. What would Ztar do and say? Ztar was unwilling to give up Archangel, yet under the constitution, Earth and Archangel would no longer to subject to the Turzent-Earth Accord, at least not in theory.

Of course, Ztar was still the ultimate ruler. He could make an exception and keep the Accord in force, but at what price to his relationship with Archangel? Sukja went back into his room. He didn't want to think about the problem right now – it was too early in the day. Instead, he sat down with his PI and brought up the news feed to read about the latest events from around the Empire. It was one of his morning rituals while enjoying his tea.

###

When Ztar rose, Archangel was once again gone. The human had a knack of slipping out of the bed without waking him. He didn't like that. Ztar wasn't a sound sleeper, so Archangel was quite skilled in that regard.

He thought back to the previous night. Again, he had flooded Archangel's senses with pleasure. After four years and the last ten days, the human had learned exactly what Ztar could do to bring ecstasy. The key difference between the first four years and now was intent. Years one through four focused mostly on Ztar's sexual gratification. In contrast, the last ten encounters were about pleasuring Archangel. Now it was a mental battle, and Ztar still had hope. He felt Archangel's mental resistance eroding a little more each night. If the Emperor was lucky, Archangel would soon ask for what the Emperor wanted to do – take Archangel upon invitation. However, Archangel had a strong will and that invitation could just as easily be a long time in coming. Their afternoon encounter a few days earlier followed by Archangel's anger and accusations proved that point.

As he had told Archangel that afternoon, Ztar would continue his campaign. He had since and he would continue to do so.

###

Ztar was after Warren again. He was relentless in his pursuit, as he had promised. Warren had barely held himself back the last two times from asking Ztar to finish what he started each night. Ztar was so skilled, he excited Warren's body so much it was painful not to have the Emperor finish what he started.

"Archangel," Ztar said softly as he laid atop Warren yet again, caressing a wing. "I want you. I love you and I want us to enjoy each other. Please…"

Warren was so tired of the fight. So tired of Ztar's nightly physical titillations. So tired of the bantering and maneuverings between them. He was just tired. Warren was wearing down, he could tell.

"I'm sick of this, Ztar. Just let it go! I can't be what you want, no matter how much you want otherwise," Warren said, he voice reflecting his mental fatigue.

"Then don't fight anymore, my Archangel. Just let it happen."

"You want me to want you. That won't happen. It's a fantasy that will never be reality – just accept it! If I do as you ask, it will always be because I must, not because I want to. Don't you see? Can't you understand?"

"You don't need to love me, I know that is asking too much."

"Then what _do_ you want of me?!" Warren was beyond frustrated.

"To be with me not because you _must_, but because it is your _choice_!"

Warren thought for many moments before coming at the issue from another angle.

"Can I assume that Earth is no longer in jeopardy? That I really do have a choice?"

"You are with me now, Archangel, that's all that matters. Earth remains safe."

That was not an answer.

"Is Earth safe from you if I do not give you what you want?" Warren held Ztar's gaze. Then the big question. "Will Earth be free under your new constitution?" Warren literally held his breath.

As Ztar looked back at him, Warren could see the turmoil in the eyes. Let the club over Warren's head be pulled away? Remove the only reason Warren had willingly stayed in Ztar's control? What would happen to Earth under the new Imperial government? Was that part of the odd behavior these past many nights? Warren actually felt Ztar's heart speed up in his chest as he wrestled with the question.

"I fear I will lose you if I say Earth will be free. I can't say that, I'm sorry. I need you too much, my Archangel. Life without you would not be bearable. Please forgive me!"

Ztar actually seemed pained at his response. Warren's heart sank and he exhaled. He had held out some hope that Earth would be safe under the new constitution, but that small hope now crumbled.

"Then best I can give you is to choose not to resist, as I have done for four years. I can give you nothing more," he told the Emperor wearily.

"Then at least choose to be with me tonight, don't push me away," Ztar asked still hopeful, brushing his hand across Archangel's hair.

"I will do what I must to protect Earth." Warren said flatly.

Ztar sat up with a jerk. "No, Archangel. Be with me not for Earth, but-"

"But what? For _you_? Because I _want_ to? Ztar, take what I offer or take nothing at all. It's the best I can do!" Warren's anger rose. This conversation was going no where but in circles.

Ztar touched Archangel's mind. The human's thoughts were correct. The conversation was circular. Archangel could give him no more while Earth was at risk, if he ever could. Ztar would never find out if Archangel would if he didn't release Earth. Yet Ztar couldn't risk freeing Earth and losing Archangel. Stalemate. Nothing had changed in four years.

The Emperor sighed deeply. Would he ever gain ground with his companion? "If that is all you can give me now, I will accept it gratefully," Ztar relented, leaning back over Archangel and stroking his hair.

The Emperor knew he had lost footing with Archangel that round, and it saddened him. But he let the sadness be washed away as Archangel gave the Emperor what he wanted, at least physically. And for a little while, Ztar was happy.

###

Ztar had fallen asleep before Warren, which was unusual. He typically waited for Warren to fall asleep. Warren guessed it was to make sure his bedmate was going to stay with him through the rest of the night.

As he slipped out of bed and returned to his own room, Warren replayed their earlier conversation. Something was nudging him about it. What had Ztar said about Earth after his new constitution? If Warren remembered correctly, Ztar had said something like "I will lose you if I say Earth is free. I can't say that." A sudden realization hit Warren. It wasn't what Ztar had said, it was what he _hadn't_ said. He didn't say that Earth would not be freed. Only that he feared losing Warren if Ztar _said_ that!

Could it be true? Would Earth indeed be free, thus freeing Warren?? It was too good to be true! Or was he reading too much into the words. 'No,' Warren cautioned himself, 'do not jump to conclusions. Ztar is too clever to let a little thing like a constitution get in the way of what he wants – and he wants you. That he had made crystal clear from day one.'

Rather than raising his hopes for what may happen under Ztar's new government, Warren would assume nothing will change. Less chance of being disappointed that way. For now, he would continue to believe he belonged to the Emperor until his death or Ztar grew tired of him. A tear made its way down his cheek with that finality.

'Best to just accept what is,' he was coming to believe. 'Four years is a long time to cling to hope,' he admitted, crawling into bed and pulling up the sheet. Perhaps it _was_ best to move forward, as Moit'de said. Living in the past and holding onto things that are no longer relevant create bad soil. Warren could choose to be like Rja and let the bitterness from bad soil taint everything in his life or he could choose otherwise.

Sukja's words came back to him. "You and I cannot change your situation with the Emperor right now. However, you do have a choice in how you view your situation. You can either continue to look at yourself as his whore and nothing more, or you can choose to view yourself as Imperial staff and one of Ztar's confidantes and advisors, who just happens to share his bed."

As Warren grew sleepy at last, he vowed to try to gain a fresh perspective and re-examine his options. But it would all keep until tomorrow.

###

Warren saw Sukja was up as he returned from his sunrise flight, and he wasn't surprised. It had been twenty days since they arrived on Sat'rey, he had figured out the daily pulse of the palace, Sukja, and the Emperor. Sukja was an early riser, although not quite as early as Warren. The Emperor tended to wake a little later, but he was not one to sleep in either. With the exception of the kitchen, most other palace staff didn't start stirring for a couple hours after Warren got up. He liked that – the palace was mostly his for that time. No one watched him come and go on his morning flight, which suited him just fine.

After Warren fixed a cup of strong tea, the closest thing to coffee the Empire could provide, he commed Sukja to see if he could talk for a few minutes. Warren immediately detected the concern in Sukja's voice; likely the Ozjaerian was expecting another emotional crisis.

'A little early in the morning for _that_,' Warren mused to himself, 'even for me.'

"Good morning!" Sukja greeted as Warren entered his chambers carrying his tea.

"So far," Warren hedged.

"Join me for breakfast. I'm having zante." Sukja walked over to his dining area and sat.

Warren followed. Zante was a cross between a sweet biscuit and bagel Warren found to his liking. He immediately took a bite – his morning flight had worked up an appetite.

Sukja was breathing a sigh of relief as he watched Archangel settle at the table and start to eat. The human did not appear upset.

"To what do I owe this welcomed morning visit?" he asked with a smile.

Warren swallowed his bite and sipped his tea. "I have a small problem that needs to be resolved soon."

"With the reception?"

"No, it's personal."

Sukja thought for a moment he had jumped too quickly to assuming the human wasn't upset. Yet there were still no outward signs of that being the case. "What can I do?"

Warren hesitated. He wasn't quite sure how to explain this to someone who possibly didn't know what a bird was, let alone what went into caring for feathers.

"When you have these," Warren spread his wings slightly, "there are certain things in your daily routine that no one else needs to do, unless they have feathers, too."

Sukja was taken by surprise. In that instant he realized neither he nor Ztar had ever considered, let alone asked, about any special requirements Archangel may have given his unique physiology.

"Such as?"

"I need to preen the feathers." He spread one wing higher and showed a split in one of the flight feathers. "These splits need to be repaired regularly – daily, actually. Or at least they should be."

Warren rushed head long into the explanation he hadn't had to share with anyone for a very long time. "Not only that, but there's a conditioner that should be applied every day or two to keep the feathers from drying out. Dry feathers split and fracture much more easily. If I don't do these things, flying becomes increasingly less efficient. And now," he hesitated. "I don't know the Turzent word for molting." Warren had to resort to using the English word. He hadn't thought to look up the translation, if there was one.

Sukja shook his head. "I don't understand. My translator is turned off."

"Molting is when a bird gradually looses feathers in a replacement process. You know what a feathered bird is?"

Sukja nodded. He had seen the feathered flying creatures on Ptaka.

"On Earth, birds shed the old feathers as new ones grow in. It usually takes a few weeks from start to finish and happens typically once a year."

"So in the end, a whole new set of feathers." Sukja summed up.

"Right," Warren nodded in agreement. "Sukja, I'm molting."

Sukja raised his eyebrows. "What does that mean for you?"

"Preening is now not an option if I want to be able to fly. When the feathers come in, there are sheaths covering the feathers that need to be removed. The conditioning oil will help keep the new feathers at their best until my next molt. I don't have that oil here."

Sukja thought for a moment. "Why didn't you say anything on the Mi-Lartui that first year? How did you deal with these issues then?"

"I didn't deal with it – not really. The stress caused me to drop and replace feathers that whole year, so I really didn't have a true molt. As for routine maintenance, you and Ztar probably noticed I didn't do much. I looked pretty ragged by the end of that year. I really only did enough so I could fly without difficulty, nothing more than that."

Sukja sat silently for a bit, taking in what Archangel had just told him. How could he have been so blind that first year? Yes, he had noticed the wings looking scruffy, but considering what he knew of Ztar's bed habits, he had assumed not much was to be done about disheveled feathers. And since Warren was still flying, it didn't seem to be a worry. He had apparently been wrong in those assumptions.

"I'm sorry, Archangel! I should have asked you more questions that year – done more to help you be comfortable." Sukja was upset with himself for the blatant oversight.

Warren heard the distress in Sukja's voice and saw it in his body language. "It's okay, Sukja. Back then I probably won't have shared much with you anyway. I didn't care enough. It may have not made any difference if you had asked."

The attendant looked somewhat reassured.

"What can I do now?" Sukja asked.

"I need some preening oil or conditioner. There is something called l'daxiam oil from the planet Ptaka that may work, if it's not toxic to me. Or," and Warren paused, "or we get what I need from Earth."

"Then that is what will be done!" Sukja was firm. "Give me the exact name of what you need and how much and we'll send a courier to Earth."

"Just like that?" Warren was surprise it was going to be this easy.

"Just like that. Ztar will not hesitate – he wants you to have everything you need to be comfortable and healthy."

Warren looked down at this half eaten zante. "Not everything…"

Sukja ignored the comment. He didn't feel like going there this morning and sensed that Archangel really didn't want to either.

"There's more," Archangel informed Sukja.

"Whatever you need…"

"I don't know the Turzent words again. My nutritional requirements increase during the molt – I need plenty of two amino acids – Lysine and Methionine."

Because Archangel inserted the English words where he didn't know the Turzent ones, Sukja did not understand.

"I think it best that you speak with our nutritionist. If we can't supply what you need or are unsure if we can, we'll add that to the list of what to get on Earth. Anything else?"

"Maybe some coffee?"

"You've mentioned that before. A beverage, right?"

Warren nodded.

"Anything more?"

"That should do it."

"Then we'll send a courier as soon as you speak with the nutritionist – today, hopefully. We can rely on your friends on Earth to assist us in obtaining what you need?" When Warren nodded, Sukja continued. "Assuming a courier ship is within a few days of Earth, I'd guess it'll be anywhere from eight to ten days before they arrive here with the oil. Is there anything we can do in the meantime?"

Archangel looked at Sukja and a twinkle appeared in his eyes. It was an extremely rare sight and Sukja was anxious for what Archangel was going to say next.

"Just don't tease me about feathers scattered about the palace!" Archangel shared one of his beautiful smiles.

"You have my word, Archangel. Not a word about stray feathers." Sukja returned the grin.

And the two men finished their breakfast with talk of the grand reception plans.

Three days later, a very surprised Charles Xavier read the shopping list the Turzent courier handed him. A quick look over the list – feather conditioner, legumes, frozen fish, powdered eggs, beans, and coffee – and he knew what was happening to his X-man. Warren was molting.

###


	5. Chapter 5

_Greetings all! Welcome to our newest readers who've kindly put this tale on their story alert and favorites list. Thank you for the votes of approval!_

_Life and work kept me quite busy this week, but I was able to polish up our next installment and I think it's ready for posting. There's quite bit going on this chapter. Post a review and let me know your thoughts. Your comments keep me writing!_

**Chapter Five**

After Warren had completed the most urgent reception tasks for the day, he asked Sukja about a trip into Yaunra to visit Atichi.

"I finished her book and would like to return it," he explained. "I was hoping I could just fly over to the city – it's not that far."

Sukja didn't even need to think about the request. "That's not wise, Archangel. Imperial staff needs to travel with a guard. I'm currently out of guards that can fly," he added with a smile.

"I can carry people, you know. I could take a guard." But even as he said it, Warren knew his argument carried no logic from a security standpoint.

"I didn't know that." Sukja hadn't thought about how much weight the human was able to carry, but apparently quite a bit. "It's still not wise. A shuttle offers the safest transport."

Warren didn't press the issue as it wasn't that important. He just wanted to have a chance to talk with Atichi – he had found the older woman very welcoming and full of wisdom. And her book had hit a cord within Warren and he'd like to discuss it a bit with her, especially since she said it reminded Atichi of her own life.

Within the hour, Warren was stepping out of the shuttle and he and his guard were making their way to Atichi's shop. Sukja had commed ahead, so Atichi was waiting for them.

"Archangel!" she came briskly out of her shop and grabbed Warren's hand and squeezed welcomingly. "It is good to see you again!"

"As it is to see you, Atichi."

She led Warren by the hand into her shop, closed the door, and pulled him toward the table they had sat at during their first visit. Tea and zante were waiting.

"Zante is one of my favorites," Warren said as he settled into the chair.

"I know – I asked Sukja," she gave him one of her flirty smiles.

Warren set the book on the table. "I enjoyed the story very much. Thank you for letting me borrow it."

"The story does pull you in, does it not? There is a reason I have read it probably six times over the years." She sipped her tea.

"Is business good?" Warren asked as he looked around the shop. It was as his memory had recalled – crowded, but not overly so, warm and inviting – homey.

"As good as one could expect during the dry season. The heat keeps many of the tourists away," she replied watching Archangel with keen interest.

"We call that low season on Earth, when the tourists stay away, and high season when the tourism is at its peak."

"Then this is low season," Atichi nibbled at her zante. "What part of the story did you enjoy most?"

Warren quickly reviewed the book in his mind. "Not any one section. It was how the story was woven together – the different perspectives of the same situation. But the character I found most compelling was the son."

"Ah, yes. Mandric. So caught in circumstances he could not control. He had to bear the burden of those circumstances nearly alone."

Warren watched Atichi watching him. She was highly intelligent, that came through loud and clear. She did not flaunt it – it was hidden beneath an easy demeanor that pulled you right in.

"You had said it reminded you of your own life." Warren prodded gently.

"So I did. And it does," Atichi sipped at her tea.

"May I ask how?"

Atichi sat quietly for so long that Warren had decided she wasn't going to answer. He nearly broke the silence, when she set her cup down and looked directly into his eyes.

"When I was young, I was forced away from my family, too. Times were difficult for us back then. Our little corner of the galaxy wasn't peaceful like it is today, Archangel. Despite Ta'oc rule, Ozjaer was in constant turmoil – land against land, territory against territory, each wanting to expand or wrest whatever control they could. The Ta'oc government had lost interest. Ozjaer had given up her most valuable resources to the empire long ago. And so we were pitted one against the other and as long as we kept our fighting amongst ourselves, the empire turned a blind eye. My homeland was caught in the middle – not strong enough to resist indefinitely, but not weak enough to be an easy target."

Warren watched as her eyes reflected what she must be feeling inside – sadness, maybe loss. He almost wished he hadn't asked. Perhaps this was too painful. But Atichi continued.

"Ztar changed all that many years ago, thank goodness. He's not perfect, Archangel, but he stabilized our world and helped us rebuild. For that I'll always be grateful." Atichi hugged her tea cup in her hands. "Before Ztar, life was less civilized." Atichi took a deep breath. "I needed to leave my family to help them survive."

Warren wasn't sure he should speak. In fact, he wasn't sure he was breathing. The air in the room had suddenly become very heavy. "Atichi, if you'd rather not talk about this…"

"No, Archangel. I have thought about this, wondering what I'd do if you asked the question. After all, it was I that put the question in your mind, did I not? I believe I need to talk about it. Perhaps with someone who might understand…"

How much did Atichi know about Warren's situation?! The book, and apparently Atichi's life, did have many parallels to his current life. Had someone told her or was it a gut feeling on her part?

"Our family was very poor. My parents did what they could, but there were too many mouths to feed. My brothers and me, my mother's elderly father, and my father's disabled sister and her child." Atichi's hands were trembling slightly, and Warren watched as she firmed her grip on the cup. "We needed another income, something that paid more than what you could earn where we lived. So I went to the city." Atichi paused and seemed to gather herself. "You wouldn't know it now, but I was…I was very pretty when I was young."

"You are still beautiful, Atichi," Warren reassured. It was the truth. Atichi must have been stunning when young.

"You're kind, Archangel, but you should have seen me in my day! And my looks were the key to my family's welfare. I did well, Archangel, very quickly. I sent money and whatever my family needed."

Warren read between the lines. Atichi was a prostitute.

"I did so well, in fact, that within two years had my own service. My family was thriving. Food, a steady income, medical care…most everything they needed to finally not struggle so hard. But it all rested on my shoulders." A shudder ran through Atichi's slender body.

Warren felt her pain. The son in the book, Atichi's life, Warren's current life – all paralleling. Lives of forced servitude for the sake of others. A chill ran through Warren and he reached out to touch Atichi's hand.

"I so sorry…" he said quietly.

"I hated the life, Archangel. Hated what I had been forced to become. But it was a means to an end, and the life provided well for us. In that respect I was grateful. I was not a happy person on the inside. I didn't like myself very much those first years. In fact, I devalued myself more than anyone else. Those were harsh years for me."

Atichi stopped abruptly and looked up at Warren. She appeared as if she was weighing her next words very carefully.

"What it taught me, though, is that you cannot let circumstance dictate how you view yourself. Circumstance is transitory. Your self-worth shouldn't be. Each of us is worthy, we need to believe that and hold onto it even though circumstance tries to rip it from us. I came to understand that when I met a wonderful man who saw beyond what my circumstance had made me. He told me that when circumstances change, how we view ourselves remains. That needs to be the stable foundation we build our lives on, not the transitory. If we allow our situation to destroy our self-worth, we destroy our future."

"He sounds like a very wise man," Warren injected.

"He is, Archangel. His name is Sukja."

So that was the connection between Atichi and Sukja!

"Sukja?" Atichi was a prostitute and she met Sukja…

"He and I met one night after I had been in business for a few years. One of my employees had a nasty client who had beaten her and left her on the street corner. Sukja happened to pass by and saw she was in trouble. He brought her home. He and I become friends almost immediately," Atichi paused, then let one of her twinkling laughs escape at the question in Warren's eyes that he would never ask.

"We were friends only, Archangel – dear friends. Over the next few years, he helped me build a different kind of business on the side, a general merchandise store. About the same time, Ztar came into the picture. Things were stabilizing on Ozjaer and more traditional business and trade began to thrive. When Sukja suggested that I move to Sat'rey and start over, I agreed. He was rising quickly through the ranks of Ztar's new empire and Sat'rey was the place to be. I gave my shop to my brothers and moved here," she said with a wave of her hand at her shop and rose from the table to refill the tea cups.

"It must have been difficult to leave your family," Warren stated, as Atichi poured.

"It was and wasn't. By that time I had learned the lessons Sukja taught me. Do not doubt your worth. Use your circumstance, not matter how difficult, to its best advantage. For me, that meant taking what life had forced me to become and using that to build a better future for me and my family. To this day, my family does well on Ozjaer. My brothers' children now run a thriving mercantile. I am very proud of them!"

"You did well, Atichi. You should be proud of _you_!"

Atichi settled back down at their table and smiled.

"I am, Archangel. I did do well, but with Sukja's guidance. I'm not sure I could have done it on my own. I owe much to my friend. I also learned that through my self sacrifice to help my family, I also helped myself. Where would I be today if I had not done so? As painful as that time in my life was, I would not trade it. Eventually, I got what I wanted – financial security for my family and myself – through that sacrifice. Much like the hero in our book."

"Mandric. I see what you mean about it being the story of your life. Different details, same story. Mandric rose from being ruled to ruling, all because he had sacrificed himself for his family and figured out how turn his situation into an opportunity," Warren summed up the book.

"That book is based on ancient Ozjaer history. It's a fictitious story, but based on an actual historical episode in Ozjaer's past. Mandric's journey to freedom started when he decided to cease being a victim of circumstance and to begin using that circumstance to his benefit. The enslaved eventually became king."

Atichi sipped her tea and locked eyes with Warren over the top of the cup.

"Perhaps there are lessons in the book for you as well?" she ventured.

He had been so caught up in Atichi's story that the question took him off guard. Warren was at a loss for what to say. He hadn't planned to discuss his own circumstance.

Atichi broke the silence. "Perhaps a discussion for another time. But should your circumstance resemble mine or Mandric's in any way, learn from what we learned. Do not devalue yourself. By helping others, we often help ourselves. Use your circumstance to its best advantage."

Warren nodded. He was the one now holding his cup with both hands in a firm grip. Atichi was saying much of the same things as Sukja, and no wonder. She had been mentored by him.

He thought back briefly to a couple nights ago when he contemplated giving up the fight with Ztar and accept was is. He recalled what Sukja himself had said days ago about doing what was best for Ztar and perhaps in the end, getting what Warren desired. He replayed what Moit'de had told him about poor soil and moving forward. For a moment, it felt like there was a conspiracy to manipulate Warren in a certain direction, and maybe there was. But what were his options? Perhaps what they suggested was his best choice, given his circumstance. Warren would need to think about it more.

"I will keep that in mind, Atichi."

She smiled and her face and eyes lit up. "Then perhaps it's time for lighter conversation, my friend."

They spent the next couple hours discussing everything from Sat'rey politics to what produce was at its peak and could be found at Niat's shop.

###

A thousand and one details came together during the next several days. It was now 13 days until the big event. All major and most minor decisions regarding the event were long finalized leaving execution at the top on the agenda. Deliveries of non-perishable items had begun in earnest and anything else that could be received in advance.

Sukja relied more and more on Archangel to deal with the palace staff, both regarding the event and the daily management of the palace. This shift in responsibility freed Sukja to also devote more time to assisting Ztar. He had never actually talked to Archangel about this arrangement, it just evolved.

"Inserting Archangel into the equation is working well, agreed?" Ztar asked during one of their regular morning meetings. Ztar liked to meet with Sukja immediately after his morning briefing with his Imperial liaisons from military intelligence, armed forces, finance, etc. That way if something came out of that meeting where Sukja could be of assistance, he could brief Sukja immediately.

"Indeed! Having him manage palace staff is working well."

"And I get more of your time, which is of tremendous help. Any difficulties with staff accepting Archangel's position?"

"Aside from Rja, not that I'm aware of in the upper ranks. Lower staff, there may be a few," Sukja admitted.

Ztar only slowly nodded his head. He had picked up on the negative thoughts and feelings of a few of the regular palace staff regarding Archangel. "If any of the lower staff become a problem, they are to be released from service," Ztar ordered.

"And Rja?"

"I haven't decided what I'd like done about that yet. I don't want to lose her – she's the best of the best. But if Archangel is going to manage the staff on a permanent basis, we may need to release her also."

"I'll monitor the situation, of course, my Emperor."

"And how is Archangel in your opinion?"

"More steady emotionally in many ways but not all. The last couple days he seems a bit off. I'm not sure why."

"I haven't been pushing him too hard in the bedchamber, so I don't think that's it. As you know, I've been giving Archangel as much telepathic privacy as I see advisable. But I, too, am picking up on his general unease and tension. If I'm reading it correctly, it has something to do with his molting."

Sukja nodded. It made some sense, but Archangel had never said the molt would alter his moods.

"Archangel and I are pretty much in a holding pattern," Ztar continued, his voice reflecting sadness. "Sukja, I've never known another being that I've wanted so much. It frightens me!" Then Ztar shook his head. "That's not quite right. I've never know someone I _need_ so much. It goes beyond the bed, though just the thought of him creates fire in me. I need him to be more than that, but I'm at a loss on how to make that happen."

"There are some things you cannot force or will into happening, such as matters of the heart. It will either be or not. The most you can do is provide an environment that encourages and supports what you want. Beyond that, it is his choice."

"That's not very encouraging, Sukja." The Emperor looked worried.

"But it is the truth, my Emperor. You are doing what you can to show Archangel the pleasures of your bed and we're building a life here that he may eventually find comfortable. You're doing what you can to create the environment. Now we just need to see where it leads."

"I don't see that I've made any progress. He only gives in bed because he must. Beyond that, he gives little of himself. After four years, Archangel still only does what he must to uphold the Accord. I want more!" Ztar's eyes were downcast and his voice laden with sadness and need.

"The Accord is a two-edge sword. Archangel stays because of it, but it is also what keeps him distance from you."

"But it's all I have! Without it, he would be gone. I would not survive losing him. It would drive me mad."

Ztar's voice had an edge of desperation to it, echoing the words. Sukja studied the powerful man seated across the desk from him. He ruled a vast empire, yet that power was meaningless when it came to changing Archangel's heart.

"My Emperor, you want so much so quickly. Be patient and do not give up hope." Sukja tried to encourage, but also didn't want to encourage a false hope.

"I haven't. When I do read him, I find he has thought about accepting life here, Sukja. However, he has found no convincing arguments to change his position toward me. I have much damage to undo."

"All the more reason to be patient."

"Sukja, I'm not a patient man."

"But you _are_ learning its value."

Ztar thought for a moment. "Another lesson for me, Sukja?" the Emperor asked of his attendant.

Sukja only smiled.

###

Warren's PI was chiming when he returned from his morning flight. It was from Lar – his supplies had arrived from Earth! None too soon, either. His craving for foods that contained what his body needed for good feather growth was increasing. According to the message, the cargo was being offloaded into kitchen's storeroom and Warren was anxious to see what Xavier had sent.

As Warren entered Delme's storeroom, the Chef was waiting for him. "Perhaps, Archangel, it slipped everyone's mind to mention a shuttle load of cargo was going to be dumped on me?" the gruff accusation flew.

'Shit!' Warren swore to himself. It had slipped his mind. He instantly put on his most apologetic face. "Chef, I am so sorry! I meant to give you a heads up, but obviously forgot. Will you accept my most sincere apology?"

Delme eyed Warren. "You do understand the inconvenience this is costing me. Not only did I have to pull staff away from their duties to rearrange the storeroom, but now I have less space for storage of palace goods. Where am I to go with all this?" he said sweeping his hand toward a stack of goods in the middle of the storeroom aisle. Warren looked to the nearby shelving which now held several transport tubs with his name on them.

"My stuff could have stayed on the floor, Chef. It's in tubs. Why…?"

The Chef appeared offended at that. "Royal Court property will not sit on the floor in my storeroom, Archangel."

'O-kay…' Warren considered. No matter how often he considered it, Warren still couldn't quite grasp all that it meant for him to be part of Ztar's royalty. It was a strange disconnect, though, between Delme's agitation about the unexpected cargo and his insistence on properly caring for royal property. Warren chalked it up to the Chef's quirkiness.

"Chef, again my apologies for your inconvenience. This will not happen a second time." Warren hoped that would appease the Alcab.

Delme let out an audible sighed and shook his head. "Apology accepted." The Chef moved closer to the tubs. "Since these were delivered to my area, I'm assuming the tubs contain food. Can I assume from Earth? I'm always curious about new food items." The Chef's hint couldn't have been more obvious – he wanted to peek.

Warren smiled and closed the gap between them. "I'm curious myself as I didn't order anything specific – just the general food category. Let's take a look."

The two men spent the next several minutes opening tubs, examining the goods, and carefully labeling the outside of each container as to its exact contents. The last container was much smaller and labeled with both his name and "private."

"What's this?" Warren wondered aloud, taking the box from the shelf, and immediately figuring it was probably the feather conditioner. Sure enough, opening the lid revealed many bottles of the special oil. "I'll take this box to my chambers," he told Delme.

Then he spied a very small box tucked in one corner, about the size of a ring case. Setting the larger box down, he pulled out and opened the container. A message chip! A note inside simply said "To Warren from Charles." Warren's heart skipped a beat. He quickly put the chip back inside it's box and closed the lid. He wasn't ready for news from home.

Delme was watching him intently. "A message from Earth?" he inquired. "Good news I hope."

Warren looked down at the box in his hand. "Me, too." But he knew the news would have to keep. To see or hear Xavier would be too painful and he wasn't going to do that to himself. Not right now anyway.

When Warren returned to his chambers, he put the chip in his wardrobe in a back corner of a drawer. There it would stay safely tucked away until he was strong enough to watch it.

###

As soon as Warren woke up, he was on edge. His whole body was strung tight and it seemed like all his senses were on high alert. Going through his morning routine only drove the point further home. Everything was more intense – the shower water hitting his body, the smell and taste of the tea, the feel of clothes on his body, the sounds of the waking natural world outside his open balcony doors.

Standing on his dimly lit balcony clenching his cup of strong tea, he knew what likely was happening. This had happened before during molts. Somehow, the process occasionally triggered the feral part of his brain, the avian portion.

Warren closed his eyes and let the sounds of valley's early morning wash over him…a gentle chirping, a lilting sing-song, rustle of foliage in the breeze, a shrill shriek in the far distance. The sounds of nature enveloped him – the creatures of the dark bidding goodnight and the daylight creatures welcoming the coming morning. He almost felt if he listened carefully enough, he could understand the meaning of the animal calls. Even the air smelled of dawn. His body responded and a shiver of _something_ ran through him.

He remembered the first time at the mansion he had experienced a "hard molt" as he had dubbed it years ago. Young and frightened by what was happening to him, the Professor calmed the teenager with an explanation.

"Despite the code name we've chosen for you, you are a feral, Warren. Human and otherwise." Warren had noted at the time the Professor hadn't used the word animal, but it's what he meant. "I believe that during this particular molt, that other part of your brain is more active than normal. Don't let it frighten or shame you – it's part of who you are."

"But what if I'm changing even more?" the worried teenage had asked his mentor. Was he going to mutate more – become even more of a bird and less of a human?

"There is no evidence that you're physically changing and I sense nothing in your mind that indicates anything other than this being a temporary condition," Xavier had reassured after a physical and psychic exam.

"But it's so hard!" he had complained in his innocent youth. He hadn't needed to vocalize what was so difficult to deal with, the Professor had scanned his mind and understood. It was the predatory urges racing through Warren that had most frightened him. What if he lost control? What if he couldn't come out of it?

"It will be okay, Warren. Trust me. I will let nothing happen to you," the Professor had promised, a gentle but strong hand resting on the teenager's shoulder.

The student believed his Professor. The man was all knowing, at least to the young mutant. As it turned out, the Professor had been right. Warren hadn't mutated more and the disconcerting feelings lasted only a few days. His "hard molts" only visited him a few times over the years and never with the intensity of that first time.

Until now.

'God, why now?' he demanded as he reopened his eyes. He wasn't even at the peak of his molt. That 'wonderful' time was probably at least several days away yet. Irritation suddenly rippled through Warren's body at that thought. He nearly growled as he turned back into his chambers.

The intense irritability was earlier than usual, too, and it was particularly strong this morning. He felt more inclined to rip someone's head off as look at them and it wasn't even sunrise yet. During the past hard molts, Warren had concluded – whether correctly or not – that the agitation resulted from the two parts of his brain being at odds; the avian part trying to assert itself and his human subconscious attempting to keep it at bay.

"Fuck it! Fuck it all!" he swore out loud to no one, except maybe God.

He made a conscious effort to gently set the cup down and not smash it into the countertop. He noticed his hand was actually shaking. Inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, he tried to calm himself. He reached down to that tranquil place in his mind.

'Huh?!' Warren couldn't reach it. Instead strange feelings of something else washed through his mind. An intense desire for…what? To do…_something_? He pulled himself out of his meditative attempt quickly. 'God, what was that??'

His entire body escalated its already high alert. Tense, ready for…what? Unconsciously, his wings spread slightly as if preparing for whatever had set him on edge. The calls of various creatures beckoned him from beyond the balcony. He paced in a circle. Suddenly, without conscious decision, Warren walked out onto the balcony and was in the air. The need was demanding and he didn't try to fight it. He didn't want to – wasn't even sure he could if he tired.

Wings slashed at the air as he flew, but not up – straight out over the palace gardens. This was not a flight of escape, this was a predator's run across the valley floor. Every inch of land below him jumped into focus in the grayness of predawn; the ground, rocks, leaves, blades of grass, insects running along the ground…every detail in superhuman clarity. All his senses were finely focused on one objective. There! His eyes and ears caught the movement and sound of an animal in the underbrush below. He quickly swung around, his body readying itself for the kill.

Suddenly the human part of his mind took control once again and he pulled himself up short and hovered in place. 'Good god, Worthington, what were you going to do – kill and eat it?!'

He watched as the nearly hapless creature below scurried to safety in a burrow. Warren landed. The sun was nearly breaking the horizon and the colors of dawn were brightening. His body was trembling as it came down from the adrenaline of the aborted hunt.

'Why now? What's happening? It's never been this strong before.' All questions with no answers. 'Need to keep it in check,' he warned himself. 'How long will this go on?' Another question without an answer.

When he felt ready, Warren took to the air once again and headed straight back to his balcony. He had gone much farther out into the valley than he realized and it gave him pause when he realized how out of it he had been. It frightened him. But now there was no reassuring Professor to talk to. He'd have to deal with this on his own.

Back safely on his balcony, Warren felt the general irritation rise once again as the other feelings ebbed. 'This is going to be a fun time,' he told himself sarcastically as he poured more tea and grabbed a couple zante from the cabinet. He realized he was ravenous.

Later, Warren thanked whatever God there might be. Ztar had taken a trip into to Yaunra and would be gone all day and most of the evening. At least he didn't need to deal with the Emperor on top of his general mental and physical discomfort on this day.

###

Sukja met up with Archangel over lunch to review the plans for the reception. Archangel was already at a table when Sukja arrived, sipping on a cool beverage. The day had started out milder than usual, but the temperature quickly climbed as the sun beat down from a cloudless sky. Archangel had wisely chosen a table in the shade of the palace.

The patio was busy with various staff members taking their lunch break; talking and laughter filled the air. Normally, Sukja would have just eaten in his office, but he'd been cooped up inside for what seemed like days now. He was ready for a break and some fresh air. Sukja settled in at the table in front a glass of whatever Archangel had ordered for him.

"Just how hot does it get here in summer?" Archangel asked before Sukja could even swallow a sip of his drink.

The human's wings were spread wider than usual behind him. 'A cooling technique?' Sukja wondered. He had never really thought about whether or not the feathers would make Archangel hot.

"It's just getting started," Sukja replied.

Archangel sighed. "And why would we want to hold a reception in this heat that's only going to get worse? It's warm even in the shade!" he grumbled.

"We could go inside," the Ozjaerian offered.

Archangel shook his head. "No, that's okay. It doesn't make sense to have it in the middle of this heat, though."

"Our guests will be perfectly comfortable. The palace has many cooling pods."

"What are those?" Archangel asked looking over the top of his glass. Sukja saw what he believed was irritation in the human's face.

"My apologies – you wouldn't know. Cooling pods are devices that we'll place around the patio, gardens, and other outdoor areas. They cool quite a large radius of space, so no one will feel the heat no matter how hot the day may be," Sukja explained. "That is one there in the corner," he nodded toward the far corner of the patio.

Warren turned and eyed a tall tower standing at the edge of the patio that looked like an ornamental statute. "That looks like a sculpture."

"Exactly! Well disguised, don't you agree?"

"Clever. Even _more_ clever if they would turn it _on._" He was irritated further by someone's lapse in judgment about not turning on the cooling device during lunch.

Sukja eyed the human. Archangel had only what could be described as a pouty look.

"Are you okay?"

Warren pulled himself up short. 'Jesus, I'm whining!'

"Sorry, Sukja. Just a little cranky today," he apologized, taking another sip of the cool liquid. But god, it was hot!

"Perhaps my office would be more comfortable…"

"No!" the word jumped out much more harshly than he had intended. "I mean, no – it's okay. I'll be fine."

'Damn it! Try to stay civil, Worthington.'

Warren looked around. None of the other diners seemed to be as uncomfortable with the heat as he was. They were happy, talking, enjoying their break on the patio. That served only to set his teeth on edge.

'Well, this is a different side to Archangel!' Sukja thought to himself.

"What did you want to talk about?" Warren said trying to keep all irritation out of his voice, but instead it came out flat and disinterested. He really didn't mean to be difficult.

"I thought we should see where things stand with the reception and review what still needs to be done. We also need to discuss a trip to retrieve the liquor from the beverage house."

Warren's eyes and ears had left Sukja and rested now on the two staff members seated at the next table. The voices were familiar. They were the same voices he had overheard that night when he left Ztar's chambers in anger and learned that not everyone was pleased with his being named to Imperial staff. They were busy chatting about their upcoming time off, but the man – Tarric, if Warren recalled correctly – kept glancing over toward Warren and Sukja.

"Archangel, did you hear me?" Sukja was looking at Warren with a puzzled expression.

"Sorry, Sukja. I got distracted."

"I was talking about the trip to the beverage house. We should go two days before the reception. Most everything should be set by then and it will be a good break for both of us. And you can meet our sommelier – she's the best on Sat'rey!"

"Whatever you want, Sukja," Warren answered dully, much more interested in the pair seated nearby.

Just then the waiter approached wanting their choice from today's three standard options. Warren was beginning to feel the need for increased food intake, preferably some of what the courier had retrieved from Earth. But those things weren't on the menu and, as illogical as it was, it annoyed Warren that they weren't. His special foods were up in his chamber kitchen, but he hadn't the energy to go and retrieve any.

"I'm not hungry." The words came out coldly. He was hungry, but yet too irritated to feel like eating.

'Now I know something is wrong,' Sukja concluded. 'For Archangel not to be hungry…'

Sukja placed his food order, but asked for an extra helping in case Archangel changed his mind once the food arrived. Sukja had rarely seen the human not want to eat. In fact, the human ate more than most people would be advised to, but he remained lean without any extra weight on his body. Sukja could only wish for such a metabolism!

Sukja was now on edge with Archangel's attitude and apparent lack of appetite. What was going on here? Was it the heat, something going on between him and Ztar, the molting, or something else? He thought he'd try the standard approach in these situations.

"Archangel, have I done something that you're upset about?" he asked as uninflammatorily as he could possibly manage.

Warren narrowed his eyes at the Ozjaerian. He felt himself coming to a sudden boil, but caught himself. 'Easy, flyboy! You're cranky from the molt – don't take it out on Sukja.'

For a moment, the look in Archangel's eyes nearly caused Sukja to shrink back. There was something there he had never seen before, not even when Archangel was angry. He actually felt threatened! Then just as quick, it was gone.

"It's nothing. I'm just hot and…well, I'm just cranky is all. It's nothing you did or anyone else did."

"Then we should eat inside."

"I said no _before_. We don't have to go inside!" Warren's voice rose high enough that people turned toward their table. His face turned hot in a blush. He fought against the irritability, but it won't let him go.

Sukja took a deep breathe and steadied himself. He would ignore the comments.

"For the trip to the beverage house, we should head out sometime in the morning, but I'd like to leave our schedule flexible that close to the reception. As long as they know we'll be there sometime that day, it should be acceptable. I'll take care of the arrangements. Agreeable?"

"Yes." Warren replied simply. Saying as little as possible right now was best since he couldn't seem to control his sharp tongue. Then his ears tuned in once again to the nearby conversation.

"The Emperor's companion seems a bit out of sorts," Warren heard the man named Tarric say quietly to his lunch partner. Warren's keen hearing had no trouble picking up every word.

"We all have bad days," the woman whispered back.

"He has no right to speak that way to Sukja," the man's voice raised slightly.

"Keep your voice down, Tarric," the female warned, glancing over toward Warren. Their eyes locked for a moment before she looked away with an obvious embarrassed flicker in her eyes.

"I really don't care if he hears or not, Merryth. Maybe someone needs to remind him of his place."

"And that someone is you? You're the one that's stepping out of line, Tarric. Let it go."

"I said it before and I'll say it again, he being on Imperial staff is a disgrace."

"When you say that, you also speak ill of our Emperor. If you pardon me, I need to get back to work." With that the young woman pushed back her chair and rose. "I hope you enjoy your day off tomorrow. I won't be joining you."

"Merryth!" the man stood, but the woman was already passing through the palace doorway.

Tarric saw Warren watching the scene and he gave Warren a cold glance before heading inside the palace himself.

Sukja watched the exchange and Archangel closely. He also had heard enough snatches of the conversation to get the gist. Was this the same couple Archangel had mentioned overhearing from his balcony? It seemed a strong possibility.

The waiter was approaching with Sukja's meal.

"Sukja, I need to stretch my wings." Warren was up and walked away from the table before Sukja could protest. As soon as he cleared the patio, Warren was in the air.

Sukja watched Archangel climb into the air and saw a feather float to the ground. He also noticed a gap in the flight feathers. Perhaps molting took more out of Archangel than he mentioned? Or was it just the heat? As Ztar had said, sometimes it _was_ hard to keep up with Archangel's moods.

As Warren climbed, the air cooled and it felt wonderful across his body and wings. He let it cool down his anger, too. With each wing beat, he allowed more of the irritation and anger escape his body. Yep, this was a good idea. He had needed to get into the sky.

###

Warren wasn't looking forward to talking with Rja, but it had to be done. Sukja said he was to meet with each staff head once a week to discuss whatever issues there may be. If nothing else, it was a chance to touch base. Meeting with the gardener, the chef, and the security officer was a piece of cake. The housemaster on the other hand…

As usual, Warren was greeted with barely disguised disdain when he entered her office. Warren was still feeling cranky. The lunchtime flight had only temporarily lightened his mood. As soon as he had landed in the heat, his irritability returned with a vengeance.

"Let's just get this over with, Rja," he said without any pretense of this being a cordial meeting.

She actually looked up at him with that and raised her eyebrows. "My sentiments precisely." Rja sat back slightly in an authoritative posture. "There are no issues to discuss. As usual, my staff runs smoothly and efficiently."

"And preparations for the reception?" he asked coldly.

"Ahead of schedule. Household staff is fully prepared and will serve our Emperor with excellence." Rja's voice was confident and proud, almost arrogant.

"Good."

"This is how it will always be, every week. There really isn't a reason for us to meet. Save us both the time," she said leaning forward.

"It is our responsibility to do so, Rja, as you know. This is what you and Sukja would do and he has tasked us to follow that same process." Warren reminded the housemaster, not bothering to remove the irritation from his voice.

"It has been over four years since the Emperor lived here on a regular basis and we carried out our duties with excellence all that time without a weekly meeting. Sukja may wish to revisit that decision."

"If I was Sukja, we would not be having this discussion," Warren pressed. He felt his anger ratchet up a notch.

"But you're not Sukja. He and I worked well together and I enjoyed our meetings. You and I will never have that kind of working relationship. Why force it?" Rja's eyes held Warren's in a challenge. She was not going to back down easily.

"Perhaps you should take this up with Sukja then!" Warren was going to lose his temper. He actually wanted to lose his temper – it would be a release. He kept it in check for the moment.

"Don't I recall you telling me that you're managing palace staff now? Are you saying you're in over your head already and need to defer to Sukja?" Rja's words were biting.

"Since you won't respect my authority, Rja, I thought you may need to be reminded of _your_ position by Sukja." Warren also meant his words to bite. 'Don't mess with me, lady! Not today.' Warren felt another side of him warn silently and his body tighten.

Rja seemed to swell with anger. "_My_ position is one earned through service and experience. To ask me to respect _your_ authority is demeaning. But if Sukja and my Emperor wish me to meet with you each week, that is what I will do. We will hold your unnecessary meetings, Archangel, but don't mistake that for condoning authority I do not respect."

"You tread on very thin ice, Rja! I could have you removed from your position." Warren rose as he spoke, allowing his anger to flare. His wings spread unconsciously.

"I rather doubt you would do that, especially before the reception. Even after that, you would be hard pressed to replace me," the housemaster said with smug confidence.

Rja did not seem intimidated and her arrogance was infuriating! 'Take her down!' that other part of him demanded.

Warren reined himself in, but only with concerted effort. Warren did not want to pursue this any further as it was meaningless. She was not going to change and they did need her at least until after the reception.

"No one is irreplaceable, Rja. Remember that." Warren exited her office and nearly ran into a staff member on his way out. It was Tarric from the patio. The man jumped back out of Warren's way as Warren moved past, his wing hitting the man's arm. Warren didn't apologize – he was too steamed. A feather dropped to the floor as Warren brushed by. When he turned the corner down the hall, he saw Tarric pick up the feather and crush it in his hand as he entered Rja's office.

'Two of a kind!' Warren thought bitterly to himself.

###

To round out a perfectly miserable day, Ztar wanted Warren more than usual that night, probably because Warren had gotten the night off the previous evening. He felt like Ztar was smothering him with the unwanted attention. Ztar was all over him the minute he walked in the door. To make matters worse, Ztar had come to Warren's chambers that night for only the second time since his arrival on Sat'rey.

Ztar was now in the kitchen with him and the Emperor's hands were roving over Warren's back, shoulder, and wings and Warren was seething.

"I thought you wanted something to drink!" he snapped at the Emperor, attempting to shrug Ztar's hand off his shoulder.

Ztar looked questioningly at Archangel. The human had been on edge from the moment he walked into his chambers. Irritation literally radiated from the human. "I do, my Archangel. I can get the Dison," he offered as an appeasement.

"I can _get_ the Dison, Ztar. Just not with you all over me!" Warren was exasperated beyond tolerance. He knew where most of the irritation was coming from, but that didn't lessen it one iota. Warren also no longer wanted to fight the irritability as he had done all day and yesterday as well. He _wanted_ to be mad! Actually, Warren wanted to tear Ztar to shreds and laugh over his body.

'God, I wonder if this is anything like what women feel when they're PMSing?'

Ztar backed off and turned toward the sitting area. Ztar would have to be comatose not to feel the agitation through the empathic link, but held off probing the human telepathically for the reason. Ztar had been giving Archangel more mental privacy to prove he did care about the human's needs.

'Good!' Warren thought to himself when Ztar went to sit as Warren poured the two glasses of Dison with harsh movements. He stalked over to the sitting area and set Ztar's glass down with force on the table next to his chair. Then he sat in the chair across from the Emperor with a heavy sigh.

Ztar eyed his companion carefully while taking a sip of the sweet, fiery liqueur, contemplating his next words.

"It seems you are on edge, my Archangel…" he opened

'Oh, great. Now he wants to _talk_!'

"Have I told you lately how much I hate it when you call me that?" Warren wanted to cut deep. It felt good!

Ztar blinked a couple times in stunned silence. This was not the Archangel he knew. Even the empathic connection had an oddness woven within the anger. What was going on?

"If there is something I've done that you're upset about, tell me." Ztar replied.

That question drove Warren over the edge. Nearly jumping out of his chair, he leaned over Ztar threateningly.

The menace in Archangel's eyes gave the Emperor pause. He'd seen the human angry before, but somehow this was different.

"First Sukja, now you! Why does everyone ask if they've done something wrong? As if this whole goddamn situation is perfectly normal and no one can figure out why the human is upset! Are you both so fucking _clueless_??"

Warren turned and headed toward the open balcony doors. Ztar was right behind him and grabbed his arm from behind before Warren could make his escape into the evening sky.

"I'm sorry, Archangel. Please stay," Ztar asked in his most gentle voice.

When Archangel spun around to face the Emperor, his eyes were daggers – the pupils were small, his eyes narrow. With wings spread about half their reach, Archangel looked like a predator ready to kill its prey.

Warren was flooded with pure rage. "Let – my – arm – go!"

The voice was low and threatening, almost a growl. Ztar released Archangel's upper arm in surprise. The human turned and started for the balcony again. It was obvious that Archangel was extremely upset. Memories of the third day at the palace when Archangel fell nearly to his death flashed through Ztar's mind. He couldn't risk that happening again and Ztar made a decision. He stopped Archangel in his tracks with a mental jab.

Archangel stopped abruptly from the psychic jolt. The creature that turned slowly back to Ztar was not his beautiful Archangel. A low, guttural sound emanated from the human as he slowly crouched, wings extended fully, fists held in attack position, pupils fully dilated to take in everything bit of available light in the softly lit room.

Prey will often freeze when spotted as survival technique and Ztar did likewise. The Emperor was stunned. What was happening to the human? He remained motionless while considering his next move.

'Perhaps mental soothings?' Ztar proposed to himself. 'No, additional mental intrusion may further anger Archangel.' He decided to try the old fashion approach – talking. Ztar spoke softly. "Archangel, I meant you no harm. I just didn't want you to leave when you're so upset."

Archangel said nothing but took a threatening step toward Ztar. The Turzent ruler held his ground. The empathic connection was confusing – it didn't feel like Archangel any more. It felt like something more…primal.

Warren's world became instinct. No conscious thought – just a drive to stalk and kill what had just attacked him. Sound came from the prey's mouth, but it held no meaning. His perception of time changed and every subtle movement of his target was in slow motion. He could hear it breathe and the heart beat. And when he leapt toward the target, it did not move – at first.

Ztar saw the brief, subtle tensing of the muscles just before Archangel propelled himself. That signal was all Ztar needed to respond to Archangel's attack. He knew his strength outmatched even an adrenaline-pumped Archangel, but the human was lightening fast and Ztar barely caught Archangel's wrists as he crashed into the Emperor's body. Ztar managed with difficulty to keep his footing and Archangel's wrists in his hands. Archangel tried to twist away while bringing foot hard behind Ztar's knees to topple the much larger man.

Ztar exerted mild mental control, just enough to confuse Archangel's mind for a moment. He was stunned by the mind he felt – animal! Then in a quick spin movement, Ztar had Archangel's back and wings against his chest, Archangel's wrists still in his hands, Ztar's arms pinning the human's body to his, holding Archangel up so his feet were too high to reach the floor. The sounds coming from the struggling man weren't human as Ztar hauled Archangel bodily over to the bed, lifted him up higher and unceremoniously dropped him down.

Never letting go of Archangel's wrists, Ztar pressed the Archangel hard into the mattress as he crawled on top of the legs that kicked violently at any target they could reach. Now that Ztar had Archangel fairly well restrained beneath him, he found that he was excited about this unexpected turn of events. Predator/Prey was something he hadn't enjoyed since his early years in the military. It was the favorite scenario of one of his lovers from the military base where he was stationed at the time – a young and brilliant female officer from planetary communications named Jharda Myrundra.

Ztar had turned the tables on the predator beneath him. "Prey for the hunted now, my Archangel?" the Emperor said as he brought his month down hard on Archangel's. Archangel promptly bit his lip and drew blood. Ztar was taken aback by the act and the pain, but then pain is sometimes stimulating. He went back for more.

Ztar entered Archangel's mind once again. The human he knew was still there, but overridden by primal instincts. As Ztar kissed the struggling creature beneath him, he felt the human side attempt to resurface. He pushed it back down gently. Ztar wanted to experience this side of the human that was new and exciting.

Ztar applied enough mental control to allow him to begin stimulating Archangel's body. As he hit the right spots, Archangel's struggles began to subside and he started to react to the sexual arousal. Carefully, skillfully, Ztar turned the angry energy into sexual energy until he felt Archangel's desire flare white hot through their connection. There was nothing gentle about the animalistic response.

Archangel fought to be dominant. He pushed Ztar up and back with a strength that took Ztar by surprise as he was knocked off Archangel's hips. Archangel was instantly on top of him, pushing him into the bed. Archangel tore fabric, nails digging into the Emperor's flesh, and teeth biting so hard as to draw small spots of blood. Nothing was subtle about the human physically or mentally, just an overpowering drive to mate. All animal – all savage, and Ztar was quickly falling under its primordial spell.

The empathic connection was sucking him in. Ztar felt himself slip to a level of awareness he hadn't experienced before. Thought was becoming impossible. Only carnal need existed. Ztar was quickly lost to his own primal drives as Archangel became increasingly aggressive. Between Archangel and Ztar, what remained of their clothing was quickly gone. With that task done, Ztar's dominant nature took control and he tossed Archangel off toward foot of the bed. Archangel recoiled for a moment, wings spread wide, dilated pupils locked on his prey turned mating partner. Both wanted the dominate position, but only one was going to get it. And it was going to be Ztar.

Ztar waited for Archangel to come at him again. As Archangel lunged toward the Emperor, he dodged sideways and Archangel narrowly missed his target. The human ended up at the head of the bed on his knees, hands gripping the headboard he had used to halt his momentum. In that split second, Ztar was behind Archangel and his hands locked tightly around the best handles around – the base of Archangel's wings. He pressed Archangel hard against the headboard and held on.

Trapped between Ztar and the headboard, Archangel fought violently to break free. Angry animal sounds relayed displeasure. If it wasn't for Ztar's superior strength, Archangel would have freed himself quickly. Instinct guided Ztar's movements as he removed one hand from a wing base, put it to the back of Archangel's neck, and pushed the human's head into a bowed position, maintaining squeezing pressure on the back of the neck – essentially, an animal-like hold demanding submission.

The response was nearly immediate. Archangel's struggles lessen dramatically. The splayed wings fluttered slightly as Archangel emitted a low animal tone from somewhere deep in his throat. The human's hands gripped the top of the headboard so hard his fingers where white. He pushed back a couple times, but otherwise was quieted.

When Ztar drove himself into Archangel fully the first thrust, the resulting cry was an eerie mix of human and animal pain. With each thrust, he drove deep into his Archangel. Vaguely, Ztar knew he had caused pain, but Ztar was beyond caring. He rode Archangel, using the base of the wing and Archangel's neck as handles as he thrust, hard and deep.

Archangel's wings spread out fully and their movement echoed Ztar thrusts. The world was blocked out by the white softness of the feathers as the wings drew back enveloping Ztar. He rode Archangel for a long time, caught up in the sexual gratification of capturing and taking his mate.

A cry came from the winged creature with every plunge, the pain actually seeming to strengthen the animalistic arousal in Archangel. Ragged, savage sex was often the norm in the animal world. When Ztar finally released into Archangel, he was completely spent. Archangel collapsed backwards into Ztar's lap when Ztar finally pulled himself from his companion. Then Archangel stretched out crosswise on the bed on his stomach almost in a trance. Ztar laid across Archangel's back, his head resting on one wing. Both men quickly drifted off.

###

Warren woke feeling dazed. A heavy weigh was pressing him face down into the mattress and it was uncomfortable. It took a moment to realize it was Ztar.

"Ztar, get up."

The Emperor stirred.

"Ztar, get off me!" Warren demanded.

Ztar rolled off onto his side, careful to not hurt the outstretched wing. He smiled at Archangel as their eyes met.

Warren was confused. 'What the hell?' He couldn't remember how they had gotten into this position.

Reading the confusion in Archangel's mind, it seemed that when the animal side was in control, memories weren't very well retained by the human side. On the other hand, Ztar remembered every savagely erotic detail. Should he tell him what happened or leave it for now? Perhaps some discretion would be wise.

"Ztar, what happened? I don't remember…" Warren had a growing dread about what may have occurred and his heart began to pound. All he could remember was getting the glasses of Dison, being very annoyed with Ztar, and wanting to get into the sky. This was not looking good! What had Ztar done to him?

He saw Archangel's eyes narrow at him as Ztar rose out of the bed. Then Archangel's eyes caught sight of the shredded clothes lying on the floor around the bed and those incredible blue eyes widened.

"What did you _do_?!" Warren was panicked – what had happened? What wasn't he remembering? Then as if in response to his question, small flashes of memory began to hit him. What he saw nauseated him.

"Oh, god! Ztar – what did we-? Shit. Ztar!" Warren was having a hard time collecting his thoughts.

Ztar tried not to smile at Archangel's jumbled thoughts and his reaction to the quite obvious evidence of what had transpired during the evening, but the memories of their foray into the animal side of their natures caused a quick grin to escape.

Between the images coming to him in fragments, the evidence on the floor, and Ztar's grin, Warren was quickly putting the pieces together. Brief snatches of memory showed him atop the Emperor, biting and kissing – obviously the aggressor. The feeling coming with the memories was raw sex drive without restraint and the need to dominant. Then Ztar's taking of him, rough and equally unrestrained also came into focus, along the pain that somehow in Warren's animal brain made the act complete.

'Dear god, what _am_ I? What did I _do_?!' Warren thought he'd vomit. He pulled the bedding up and clutched it tightly to his chest in a protective move. Ztar had seen that part of him Warren feared most. His most private, inhuman part. Through the years when the avian side exerted itself, he had usually held it in check. Thankfully, it didn't happen often, only during hard molts and those were infrequent. But when that part of him did wrest brief control, he felt less than human. Despite everything Xavier had told him all those years ago about it being part of him and nothing to be embarrassed about, it always shamed him.

Now Ztar had seen it just as Warren had lost all control for the first time in his adult life. And Ztar had taken advantage of the situation. But worst of all, the flashes of memory told Warren he had willingly participated – maybe even initiated it! Naked and exposed, Warren felt more ashamed and vulnerable than he ever had with Ztar. He buried his head in his knees, pulling his wings around him. He was definitely going to be sick.

Instantly, Ztar sensed the feelings of shame that were reflected in the cocooning position the human had taken. Swearing to himself, Ztar knew he needed to act quickly to turn Archangel away from the self-loathing. He dipped into the human's mind and found the memory of Xavier when Archangel experienced his first strong non-human drives.

Moving closer to Archangel, he spoke softly. "It's okay. I know that wasn't what you would have normally done. Don't let it frighten or shame you – it's part of who you are."

Ztar's words were echoes of Professor Xavier from all those years ago. The only way Ztar would know to say those exact words was if he had invaded Warren's privacy. As if things weren't bad enough, now his memories were being violated yet again. Warren grew angry.

Ztar felt the second change in Archangel and he was pleased. If his words pulled Archangel from shame to anger, Ztar had done what he had intended.

"You had no right to take advantage of me like that! It's obvious you knew I wasn't in my right mind!" Warren accused, dropping his wings away from his sides.

"You're right, Archangel. I should not have, if I had _been_ in my right mind. But the heat of the moment drove me to places I hadn't been before. It was so unexpected! I'm not sure I was in any more control of myself than you were." Ztar explained.

"Bullshit! I don't believe you!"

Ztar stood at the side of the bed. "I'm being truthful. Whatever it was that happened to you overwhelmed me. It was primal and powerful. I got caught up in it empathically – a part of me I didn't know even existed. Sometimes I think I still don't know everything about what was done to me by the augmentation. I'm sorry, Archangel. I don't know what else to say."

"That's a good story, Ztar, but I'm not buying it! Get out, bastard!" He wasn't going to let Ztar off the hook that easily.

Ztar considered for a moment. "You did nothing wrong this evening. This was my fault – I pushed too hard when you were vulnerable, but it was not my intent to bring out in you what you fear most. Next time, I'll know the signs. It will not happen again, I vow to you. Just know that a part of me that I didn't know existed also rose up and it, too, was primal. Whether that's deep within my Turzent nature or part of my mutation, I don't know. But your professor was a wise man when he spoke the words. Those parts of ourselves we try to deny are not shameful."

Warren rolled that over in his mind for a minute. Ztar did look apologetic. Was he being truthful? Warren saw no signs of deceit in the Emperor. Had something been triggered in Ztar's augmentation or own mutation? He had never bothered to ask Ztar about that or about much of anything concerning the Turzent's mutation or his augmentation. That realization made Warren pause. He was as guilty of being unconcerned about Ztar as a mutant and Ztar had been about Warren's mutation. Warren let most of his anger dissipate.

He looked up at Ztar. "I've never thought much about how your mutation affects you other than the obvious." Warren realized this may be the first time he really thought of Ztar as a fellow mutant. Until now, Ztar was an alien, his tormentor, and his captor, but not really a mutant.

Ztar sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry, Archangel. I'm guilty likewise. There are still things I'm learning about myself and what the gods have thrown at me. Some of the changes I welcome, others…" and he shook his head.

"I know," Warren replied.

They sat quietly for awhile, each lost in their own thoughts.

###

Warren woke in a fairly good mood. Ztar had allowed Warren to stay in his own chambers that night and they had not had sex. That alone was enough to lighten Warren's general attitude. Plus, the feeling of mental conflict was also gone. He got up with the realization that perhaps his avian side was once again dormant.

'Please, let it be so!' he prayed.

With the possible release from one of the side effects of the molt, another came to the forefront. Warren had lost four flight feathers over night, two from each side, leaving significant gaps in the outline of his wings. That amount of gap would impede flight significantly – no fancy maneuvers for awhile without effort. Several other less critical feathers were scattered in and around the bed.

His craving for amino acid-laden foods was heightened and he fixed a breakfast of eggs and fish. An odd combination, but it's what his body craved. He decided to eat inside this morning instead of on the patio. The heat had not relented overnight and the outside air was already too warm in the predawn hour.

As he downed his eggs and fish, Warren contemplated the brief conversation with Ztar after the vaguely recollected animalistic encounter two nights previous. He would ask Ztar more about the Turzent's mutation, Warren decided. It may help him deal more effectively with the Emperor. Warren learned long ago that the diversity and proliferation of natural mutations on Earth was not the norm in the universe beyond Earth. It must have been hard on Ztar dealing with his mutation and augmentation essentially alone.

While he sat on the bed preening after breakfast, Warren reflected about how lucky he was to have been taken in by Xavier when he was. All the fears and uncertainties of being different would have been nearly unbearable if not for the understanding and support of that man and his fellow X-men. Especially in those early years when mutation was something to keep hidden.

But Ztar likely didn't have such emotional support. According to what Sukja had told him four years ago, there wasn't anyone for Ztar to share his fears with – no Turzent mutants to commiserate with. How alone that must of felt. Finishing his daily grooming, Warren reaffirmed his decision. He would indeed talk with Ztar about it at the next opportunity.

###

Warren had his weekly meeting with Chef Delme and Master Gardener Moit'de today. It was now only eight days before the big event and everyone at the palace was somehow involved in the final preparations. He was looking forward to today's meetings as opposed to the recent one with Rja. The chef and the gardener couldn't have more different personalities, but Warren liked them both. The gruff, I-don't-suffer-fools chef and the relaxed, warm, there's-no-one-I-don't-like gardener.

First up was Moit'de because he was an early riser like Warren so they had agreed to meet early in the landscaping building. Moit'de actually had an office in the building, though Warren had never met with him there.

"Moit'de?" Warren called out as he entered the building. A large portion of the structure was devoted to the greenhouse. Warren loved how it smelled of growing things and dirt. The building was also warm and humid, something Warren liked less.

"Archangel, here!" Moit'de waved and smiled from the planting racks he was working over.

"How are you and your plants this morning?" Warren greeted warmly. He like Moit'de and enjoyed spending time with him.

The gardener stopped pruning the plants in the racks as Warren approached and gave him the once over.

"Plants good. I also happy. Archangel look tired."

"A little." Warren had to admit he was. The general feeling of malaise would continue for the next couple weeks, until the worst of his current condition had passed.

"You ill?" Moit'de's face was filled with concern.

"No, nothing like that. Nothing to worry about." Warren didn't have a problem with explaining to Moit'de about molting, but not this morning.

Moit'de seemed to search Warren's face for information, but said nothing more. That was one of the things Warren liked about the gardener, he always accepted what information Warren was willing to share, and never pushed or pressed for more. Moit'de's manner, though, always said the door was open to talk more, if one wished or needed.

"Next days busy, Archangel. Many plants need help being best for reception. Timing critical. Come see your dayfras!" The gardener headed off to another part of the greenhouse.

Warren followed through the aisles coming to a stop in front of the plant Warren instantly recognized – the fragrant dayfras. There were dozens in the planting pots, all loaded with flower buds.

"Dayfras to bloom for reception only. Greet guests and on patio." Moit'de smiled proudly.

Warren remembered the sweet, spicy smell from the plant he and Moit'de had worked near those many days ago. Even though these dayfras were not in bloom, they still had that enticing aroma, although much muted.

"They will be perfect!"

"Smell new – exciting."

Moit'de was right. Something about the plant did leave an impression of freshness and energy. They would fit the reception's theme beautifully.

"Thanks for adding them to your plan, Moit'de."

The gardener smiled at Warren's appreciation.

"All go well, Archangel. Moit'de blessed with good staff. Work hard and happy."

Warren guessed the attitude of the staff was likely the result of working for a caring boss, who obviously loved his work.

"I show you more!"

With that, Moit'de escorted Warren to the other plants that were being forced and otherwise tended to for the reception. Plants that needed to be shipped in had arrived in the last few days and were being held in the greenhouse for their final forcing or in stasis.

Outside, Moit'de walked Warren through the floral layout for the shuttle pad, grand entrance, and patio. Despite the onset of mid-summer, the gardens and other landscaping were looking as fresh as springtime. Most of the hard work of preparing the palace grounds was done. Now most everything was in a holding pattern. Moit'de and his crew deserved to be proud and Warren told the gardener that should be the case. He only smiled at the compliment.

When they had finished the walk-through, Moit'de turned to Warren. "Just pray no summer storm!"

Warren hadn't given that possibility much thought.

"How possible is a storm?"

"Has happened. Must be prepared."

"Knowing you, backup plans are set." It wasn't something they had talked about before, although Moit'de's reception plan did mention there were contingency tactics.

Moit'de nodded. "Extra of everything."

"Then I'll leave that worry in your capable hands." Warren did not doubt for a moment that short of a major disaster, the palace grounds would be ready for the big event even if a storm hit the day before.

The pair had ended the walk-through on the patio. As the meeting had concluded, Moit'de turned and started back to work. Warren decided to follow.

"Moit'de, would it be okay if I helped a little in the greenhouse?" He wasn't sure why, but he felt like getting his hands dirty for awhile, even if it meant being in the warm and humid building.

"Extra hands always welcome!" The gardener said with enthusiasm. "Come!"

For the next two hours, Warren pinched back unwanted growth and removed dead and dying leaves and blooms. As he worked, it reminded him of what Moit'de had told him about Rja – poor soil and leaving behind that which no longer serves a purpose. It was the same idea as pruning the plants. Discard the old and unwanted to make way for new, stronger growth. Perhaps it was time for Warren to do the same in his life. Perhaps…

###

After working with Moit'de, Warren found he was hungry – again. But what he was craving was down in Delme's territory. Food storage was in short supply in Warren's small kitchen and he had gone through everything kept there. The bulk of the food items from Xavier remained in the kitchen's storeroom.

Warren's appointment with the Chef wasn't until mid-afternoon, so when he ran into the Chef, Delme greeted him with confusion.

"Archangel? I thought our meeting was this afternoon!" Delme said as he rounded a corner of work counter.

"It is, Chef. I just came down to get some items from storage."

The Chef gave him an amused look. "Hungry?"

Warren nodded sheepishly. The Chef always gave him grief over how often and how much he ate. It was a running joke between them and Warren hated when he gave Delme ammunition.

"Archangel, if you were on my staff, I'd have to deduct from your wages to pay for all the extra food you consume."

"But this time, the food is already mine, Delme!" Warren was glad for the chance to get one on the Chef.

The Chef smiled slyly. "Or the deduction would be for food storage."

"Ouch!" Warren feigned a wince.

The Chef laughed heartily and Warren smiled. Delme was in a good mood today.

"Are you _very_ hungry? Since you're here already, we could meet now, unless sating your hunger is a greater priority," Delme offered and chided at the same time.

"I'm okay either way. Now is good."

"That actually works better for me today. Ztar has ordered a late lunch for him and his liaisons. Apparently, a special meeting today."

That was news to Warren. Sukja normally gives Warren a heads up on Ztar's schedule, but had said nothing about a special meeting.

Delme grabbed a zante from the pastry bin on his way to join Warren at the kitchen doorway. "Here, something to tide you over," the chef's smirk made Warren smile a lopsided grin.

Warren accepted his favorite sweet pastry and took a bite as they headed down the hall to Delme's office for a briefing on the latest happenings in the palace kitchens and an update on the reception plans.

###

Ztar had called a special meeting of his liaisons from military intelligence, Sat'rey planet security, and planetary relations. These 'seconds' to his inner circle were the Emperor's routine connection to those arms of his Imperial government. As the reception grew nearer and his announcement of the new government approached, Ztar's unease was growing.

Something wasn't right. It was nothing he could pinpoint. Mental scans of Imperial and palace staff had picked up nothing of worry. His trip to Yaunra to visit some of the key planetary officials was also unfruitful. But something just kept itching the back of his mind. Was it an instinct or just nerves?

"What is causing concern?" Commander Polzjen of military intelligence asked. With the Mi-Lartui docked above the planet, she had been temporarily reassigned to the governmental offices in Yaunra. Polzjen was like the General in many ways, directly to the point.

Unfortunately, Ztar had no good answer for his MI liaison. "I cannot give you evidence or anything tangible, Commander. So far, I have been unable to detect anything to justify my concern. But I want each of you to verify whether or not those concerns are legitimate or simply an Emperor's suspicious nature."

"Is there a focus to these concerns?" Buache of planetary security asked next.

Ztar had thought about that prior to the meeting. It was a difficult feeling to name. "The reception or some aspect surrounding that event. The announcement, perhaps?"

These individuals were only one step removed from his inner circle and they had been briefed on what would be announced at the grand reception. But that information was to go no further until the formal announcement. Whatever actions came out of the meeting would need to be handled with discretion.

"MI will increase our probings for any leaks of the upcoming announcement, in addition to listening for rumblings about the reception," Polzjen stated. "Thus far, Emperor, we've heard nothing to raise concern."

"The same can be said from planetary security," Buache added.

"I echo that, my Emperor," planetary relations chimed in.

"Be extra vigilant. There will be uncertain days ahead for our Empire and we all need to be prepared for the unexpected." Ztar warned his liaisons. All nodded in agreement.

Having made his case in person, Ztar ended the official meeting and signaled the kitchen to bring in lunch. He enjoyed the surprise in his liaisons that they would be dining with the Emperor without discussing business. That had not been done before and the conversation was stilted at first. But as Ztar questioned his liaisons about their home and families, the tension ebbed.

Ztar found he enjoyed the new approach. Another change he had decided to make in his life and Imperial ruling style; attempt to make some personal connections with his key staff, something he had avoided for years. He found he no longer wanted that wall around him to be so high.

After his liaisons left the palace, Ztar was pleased. The readings from his liaisons were positive for the most part – surprised, but honored that their Emperor had taken an interest in them as individuals, not just as cogs in the wheels of his government.

Then Ztar realized that he was beginning to feel as he had not since he was a very young man. No longer an isolated, driven man looking only to forge his mark in the universe without regard to how many people he trampled over to do that. He wanted friends and associations around him, not just rungs on a ladder or tools to do his bidding.

As the last of his liaison's shuttles lifted off the pad, he truly believed for the first time that not only was his Empire on the verge of a new beginning, so was he. And he was excited.

###

Ztar and Warren were dining in Ztar's chambers on a meal prepared by Delme himself. It contained several of the special foods from Warren's stores along with some of Ztar's favorites. Warren was particularly hungry this evening. His body's need for additional nutrients was at peak in tandem with his molt. His wings were looking scruffy, and no amount of preening would change that.

Ztar watched his dinner partner put away more food that Ztar would in two meals. Archangel was fully involved in his meal and hardly looked at the Emperor. Ztar grinned at the human as he watched the food be devoured.

Warren looked up at the Emperor

"What?!" he asked, slightly annoyed. The busy day had also left him tired and he was irritable from the molt, so he wasn't in the mood to be someone's amusement.

"I was just thinking about how much I don't know about you, Archangel."

Warren put his utensil down and sighed. It was an odd statement coming from a powerful telepath. The conversation could go several directions. Warren could continue to be annoyed and start an argument. Or Warren could play along with the scene Ztar was trying to orchestrate. Or he could simply ignore the comment and finish his meal. Decisions, decisions.

Then he remembered what he had decided a few days ago – to learn more about Ztar's mutations and how it impacted him. How had he coped when there was no one to guide him, unlike Warren who was lucky enough to have Xavier in his life? He'd ask those questions tonight if the conversation lent itself to that discussion. But first, he wanted clarification of what Ztar just said.

"Ztar, what about me could you possibly not know already? You're a telepath. You've been reading me for four years." Warren didn't say the words with anger or accusation; he simply wanted to know.

"You assume I read you more than I actually do, Archangel. When I do read you, or anyone else for that matter, I do so to gain specific information relevant to the issue at hand. I don't go rummaging through your entire mind learning every possible aspect to who and what you are. I _do_ respect privacy in my own way."

Warren was stunned. That was not the impression he'd had these past four years. "So you're saying you don't know who my parents are, or about the other X-men, or my favorite foods, or what Moit'de and I discussed in our last meeting, as examples."

"Most of that is correct. I could probe and learn your parents' names, but it wasn't information that I needed, so I haven't. When I read in you in the past, it was usually to deal with the immediate situation. Many times, I don't use my telepathy at all – I rely on our empathic connection. Details often aren't important, but the emotional state is."

Warren thought about that for a bit. He had apparently been off base with his assumption that Ztar knew most everything about him and read him as a matter of routine.

"And you give Sukja this same privacy?" Warren had often assumed everything he discussed with Sukja was by default known by the Emperor.

"Yes. I read Sukja only when absolutely necessary. He tells me what I need to know, so there is no need for probing."

"So when you told me a couple times that you give me more privacy than I knew, you were being truthful?" Warren's paradigm was shifting yet again regarding the Emperor.

"Yes, I was. I've never lied to you, Archangel."

Ztar looked at Archangel looking at him. How many more misunderstandings were there between them? It wasn't Archangel's fault. That blame lied squarely on Ztar's shoulders, he knew. Their first year together caused so much mistrust and hurt in Archangel. Ztar had used Archangel's body for physical release, took from his mind what he needed to control and coerce, and paid little attention to anything else. He had much to make up for.

"How did you deal with becoming a telepath? Was there anyone to help you?"

It was Ztar's turn to be surprised. He hadn't expected that question and he had to collect his thoughts before answering, but he would answer his Archangel. It was the first time Ztar could remember Archangel asking a question of a personal nature and it warmed him.

"It wasn't easy. The hardest part was learning to shut out the unwanted thoughts. At first I was overwhelmed and believed I'd go mad. I avoided people, especially crowds – it was just too intense. But somehow I figured out how to block out what I didn't want to hear. Then I gradually learned to control when and how to read people, mostly through trial and error. I'm afraid I hurt some people in my learning. I regret that."

Warren saw sadness in Ztar's eyes. He really did seem to regret the past injuries.

"You had no one to help you with your abilities?" Warren asked again.

"No. There were no others like me that I knew about."

"What about the energy field?"

Ztar closed his eyes and shook his head. "That was a disaster." The Emperor opened his eyes and they were bright with moisture. "I killed many innocent people, along with the not so innocent, when my powers manifested. A research facility full of Turzents died at my hands that day." Ztar's voice had grown very soft. "I don't recall everything from that hour, but what I do…those images will live with me forever."

Warren waited as the Ztar seemed to "leave" for a few moments, perhaps reliving some of those memories that Warren could only imagine. Sukja had shared some of this story with him while Warren was on the Mi-Lartui four years before, but hearing it from Ztar made it more real.

"And your telepathy emerged at the same time?"

Ztar nodded. "But all I knew was my body and mind were in intense pain from the augmentation-driven changes and I wanted to lash out at the people who caused me that pain. Between the untrained telepathy and the wild energy field, not many made it out of the facility alive. I was more animal that day than Turzent, Archangel. Driven by instincts telling me to do whatever was needed to punish and escape."

Warren saw Ztar's hand tremble slightly as he reached for his glass of Raimami. "I'm sorry, Ztar."

"Don't be sorry, Archangel! Look what I accomplished with my abilities. I learned on my own how to wield the weapons given to me by the scientists intentionally and otherwise. I have an Empire as a result! I united many worlds under a single rule. With my inner circle, we created stability were there was none. Many worlds are better for what we accomplished. There are many things for which I am proud. But there are other things I've done that haunt me."

Warren couldn't help but get the feeling that Ztar was referring in part to him in that last sentence. It was the look Ztar gave Warren. That wasn't something he would pursue that right now.

"It must have been difficult with no one to mentor you on your mutations. I was fortunate. Xavier found me and helped me deal with what I was and how to put my abilities to good use. 'With great power comes great responsibility' he would say. And we believed him. All of us X-men. To this day, it is our pledge – serve humanity with our gifts."

Ztar noticed that Archangel still referred to himself as an X-man. Whether consciously or unconsciously, the human hadn't yet left that life behind. Would he ever?

"I wish I had had someone like your Xavier to guide me. It would have made things much easier."

"If there was no one else around like you, how did you deal with the aloneness?"

Archangel's question hit home, whether he knew it or not. Ztar found a lump in his throat and he swallowed hard.

"Badly at first. I wanted no one to know what I had become, but I wasn't given the luxury of time to wallow. The military knew what had happened and were at my heels. Escaping the research facility was the easy part. Surviving their hunt of me wasn't. I hid not only to avoid the military who wanted their experiment back, but from the intruding telepathic thoughts of others I couldn't yet block out. The energy field was easier for some reason. Use of that ability came more naturally."

Ztar took a long draw of Raimami before continuing. "I ran and hid for weeks. A couple of my high-ranking military contacts finally took me in, thinking to use me for their own gain. During that time, they provided me what I needed to learn to control my telepathy, as well as my augmented body and the energy field. I quickly became very good at wielding my new weapons! And I formulated my own plan. I cared for no one by that time, my whole reason for living was to destroy those that had tried to change and use me for their purposes. They would be stepping stones for _my_ purpose."

Ztar took another deep drink. Warren remained quiet. He was fascinated by what he was learning about this galactic ruler. He couldn't help but draw parallels between Ztar's story, Atichi's life, and the book Atichi had lent him. Each took the cruel hand dealt them and turned it around to their advantage. The question was could Warren bring himself to do the same? But Ztar was continuing and Warren turned his attention back to the unfolding tale.

"It is a long story, Archangel, but in the end, I succeeded beyond my wildest dreams. My Empire is the result. Along the way, my need for vengeance became a need to conquer. But on that path, I continued to change. Eventually, I wanted to create a legacy – a powerful Empire that provided stability in a portion of the galaxy filled with warring star systems and no unifying force. I found people I could trust who believed in what I was doing, if not always in my methods."

"Sukja was one?" Warren inserted.

"Yes, Sukja is one of the best things that happened to me over the years. He is a true friend. He has never given up on me, even when I've been at my worst. And there are others, like General Gtar-Cro." A smile crossed Ztar's face at the thought of his two closest advisors.

Warren took another sip of the Raimami. He didn't care for this drink as much as the Dison, but it had its appeals. He hated to admit it, but this conversation with Ztar was intriguing and almost enjoyable.

"But now you're ready to give up your Empire?" he inquired. It seemed like an even odder step to take after hearing Ztar's story.

"I won't really be giving it up. The constitution still gives me ultimate authority over what I created, but the daily burdens will be off my shoulders. I will be in a better position to look at the whole picture rather than bogged in detail so I can more wisely guide and advise on the future."

"It will be interesting times ahead for your Empire."

"Our Empire, Archangel. You are part of it."

Warren wasn't sure he liked being reminded of that. Earth was still under Turzent rule, regardless of the autonomy the Accord granted his home planet. Warren wanted to ask Ztar again about Earth's position after the constitution, but he kept the question to himself. He still believed Ztar would find a way to keep that control over Warren. Not in four years, and certainly not during the past month, had Ztar even so much as hinted he would release Warren.

Ztar felt a flicker of sadness in Archangel. What was the human thinking about? He resisted the temptation to probe. Ztar gazed at his Archangel. Even though the conversation had been somewhat painful, it was a good conversation. This was an evening he had imagined they could have. Talking, learning about each other, sharing good food and drink – just being together. He loved Archangel and he wanted desperately for Archangel to feel something for him. It didn't have to be love, but friendship perhaps?

The Emperor pushed himself away from the table and with his Raimami in hand, moved to the balcony. He gazed over the landscape beneath him. The sun was at the horizon behind the palace. Long shadows lay across the gardens, creating complex patterns of light and dark. The balcony provided the best view of the gardens from its elevated position. They were beautiful.

"Moit'de and his staff have worked wonders on the gardens, don't you agree?" Ztar said, his back to Archangel.

Warren got up and joined the Emperor on the balcony. "Agreed. Moit'de understands plants on a level that I didn't know existed."

"He is very gifted."

Ztar set his drink down on the balcony table and turned to Warren. The Emperor reached his hand up slowly near Warren's face and hesitated as if he expected Warren the shrink away. Warren didn't. He held his ground as the Emperor ran his fingers through the blonde tousle of hair that needed to be cut. His hand came to rest cupping Warren's face.

"I love you," Ztar whispered.

What could Warren say? He didn't feel likewise. So he merely stood still as the Emperor lowered his face to kiss him. The kiss was gentle and filled with sensuality. Warren let the Emperor into his mouth without protest and soon Ztar's arms were around his back, caressing those places at the base of his wings that sent shivers through him.

"I want you tonight, my Archangel," Ztar whispered in his ear. "Please let me make it as pleasurable for you as it will be for me."

Warren wasn't sure that was possible, but he'd let the Emperor try. What choice did he have? 'But you _do_ have a choice,' an inner voice said. A choice in how he dealt with the Ztar. He could choose to accept Ztar and his circumstance or continue as he had – tolerating the Emperor, living with constant anger and hate, never welcoming or willingly reciprocating. But that was a huge step and Warren wasn't ready.

Once in the bed, Ztar made the experience as enjoyable as possible for his Archangel. But he knew it continued to be a one-sided experience. Archangel still held to himself, giving and taking what Ztar offered only because he must. Ztar wanted so much more!

###

Ztar put the finishing touches on the third draft of his announcement speech. One more round of review by his inner circle and Sukja and he hoped to have it finalized by the next day. He was pleased with how it had come together – brief, visionary, and filled with promise of a new beginning.

There was one more person he wanted to read it – Archangel. The human's perspective would be fresh and completely different. Ztar would talk with Archangel about it that today.

Ztar was feeling less anxious about the reception. The reports back from his liaisons said that thus far nothing had been found to substantiate the vague feelings Ztar had been experiencing. No breach in security was discovered and no organized efforts unearthed to sabotage or undermine the announcement. Likely it was Ztar reacting to the uncertainties of the times ahead.

With the reception just a handful of days away, Ztar was busy clearing up as many tasks as possible so that he would be free to focus entirely on the reception the last couple days before and afterward. Several honored guests would be staying at the palace and they would begin arriving two days before the reception. Playing host to those guests would fill much of his time.

###

The Emperor, Archangel, and Sukja sat on the patio for lunch. It was a rare day when all three dined together for the mid-day meal. The mid-summer day was surprisingly cool, relatively speaking, and the patio was a comfortable place for a leisurely lunch. They discussed various details about the reception, the guests that would start arriving in a couple days, and other topics as they presented themselves.

Sukja happily noticed that Archangel seemed less tired and irritable. Perhaps the cooler weather helped? He knew the human had been struggling with the Sat'rey heat.

"Archangel, I'd like you to read something," Ztar said handing over a PI.

Warren took the PI from Ztar's hand and looked at the screen. It was Ztar's announcement speech.

"I want your honest thoughts and perspective. Nothing written can't be unwritten, there is still time," Ztar assured.

"I'll get to it right after lunch," Warren promised, knowing time was growing short.

Sukja put down his beverage and looked at Archangel. "Don't forget that the day after tomorrow we go see the sommelier. They messaged me today that all is ready for our visit. I told them I wasn't sure when we'd be arriving, but it would likely be later morning or early afternoon."

Warren nodded his acknowledgment while chewing his last bite of food.

Suddenly without warning, a feeling of dread washed over Ztar. He gripped the edge of the table and tried not to let on to his lunch partners what was happening. But Sukja knew his Emperor too well.

"My Emperor, is something wrong?" he asked quietly.

Warren looked up sharply to the Emperor. Ztar had an odd expression on his face and his fingers were white from his tight grip on the table.

"Just a passing empathic feeling – likely someone on the patio is struggling with a personal issue," Ztar downplayed the feeling. He didn't lie, but he also wasn't as certain as he maintained that the dread was coming from someone nearby.

The past few days he had believed his feeling of something being wrong had been off target. Now he was no longer convinced that was the case. He would check in again with his liaisons for anything new, no matter how trivial it may seem.

###

It was two days before the reception and the honored guests would begin arriving. That meant Ztar would be fully engaged in playing host. Sukja and Archangel were scheduled to make a run to the sommelier's to pick up the beverages for the reception and to take a break from the pressures of the impending busy days ahead.

Sukja was looking forward to their outing. A trip to the sommelier was always something he enjoyed. Talking about various beverages and their characteristics and food pairings fascinated him. He hoped Archangel would also enjoy the trip. With anticipation, he headed to the shuttle pad.

Warren was not looking forward to the trip. He was tired and cranky when he woke up that morning. He had hoped the worst of the molt side effects had passed, but that apparently wasn't the case. They were back with a vengeance. He kept mostly to himself until it was time to head to the shuttle pad, per the message waiting him on his PI from Sukja. Before he realized it, Warren was due at the shuttle pad and he hadn't quite finished getting ready. He hated being late for anything, even if he didn't want to go.

Sukja was waiting at the shuttle pad. Archangel was late – very unusual for the human. Archangel appeared to need the break as much as Sukja. The past couple days had been stressful as the reception quickly approached. A side trip to the countryside would do both of them good.

After a few minutes, Archangel emerged from the palace and actually looked like a tired, pouty child. Archangel's temperament had improved for a couple days, but now it appeared to have reverted back. They boarded the shuttle in silence and settled into their seats.

As the shuttle lifted off, Sukja attempted to lighten the human's mood. "Perhaps when we finish our business at the beverage house, you could explore the area on your own while Uru and I indulge ourselves talking about her latest finds. Or you're certainly welcome to join us in our indulgence!"

The first idea held an appeal to Warren. He could perhaps work off the irritability in new skies.

"Perhaps I'll explore," he told the Ozjaerian. Though by the time business would be wrapped up, Warren thought he may be just ready to head back to the palace. No way to predict in his current emotional state.

Sukja thoughts turned to the reception only two days away. What kind of mood would the human be in then? They really needed him to be at his finest emotionally and physically. It would be a grueling day and evening, dealing with important people from Sat'rey and across the Empire. All had to go smoothly and there would be no room for bad dispositions. Sukja reassured himself that Archangel was disciplined in mind and body. Likely, he'd perform to the best of his ability. But in his current state, the stress could be too much and his best may not be quite enough. Sukja just didn't know. He'd discuss this with Ztar if needed. For now, Sukja would simply monitor Archangel.

Sukja rambled on about the sommelier and the beverage house she co-managed. Warren only half listened as he watched out the front of the shuttle. The landscape changed from gently rolling hills to terrain more reminiscent of the Mediterranean, but without the coastline. His thoughts kept going back to all the conversations he'd had over the past month and his own contemplations about his life and the Emperor. He tried to organize those thoughts into his own plan for this new life he was being forced to live.

There was no escaping the position life had put him in. If he accepted that, he could move forward. But that meant letting go of the hope of some day being free. That was hard. Then there was to choice regarding his 'relationship' with Ztar. Two options there, but again hard choices. Could nothing ever be easy? It was a running theme in Warren's life. Many things had been easy for him, but they were often the superficial, like money and material possessions. The important things in life nearly always seemed to be mired in conflict, pain, and emotional upheaval.

As he watched the rugged landscape pass by through the shuttle's cockpit window, he felt on the verge of a final decision regarding his life from this point forward. Just one step more to take…

Suddenly, the unmistakable sound of an explosion rang through the shuttle and the craft lurched violently to one side. Warren, Sukja, and the guard were thrown from their seats onto the floor. Objects not tied down flew through the air, slamming into whatever was in their trajectory.

"Hang on!" the pilot yelled as he struggled with the nearly out-of-control craft. Warning bells chimed angrily. The three men on the floor braced against the seats and walls of the shuttle. A smaller second explosion rocked through the craft and again it lurched violently.

Warren and Sukja locked eyes. Warren could see immediately that Sukja was gravely concerned about their survival. His thoughts obviously matched Warren's own. This was not good!

The shuttle bucked and rolled and threatened to nose dive into the ground. Pilot and co-pilot struggled, shouting options and instructions between them. Smoke was beginning to enter the cabin through various vents.

"We're going down! Get strapped in!" the co-pilot yelled back to their passengers.

As Warren stood, holding on to anything he could grab to remain upright, he caught a glimpse out the cockpit window. The ground was fast approaching! He grabbed Sukja's hand to help steady the Ozjaerian as he struggled to get into a seat. Warren saw the guard was managing on his own.

'If we survive this, it will be a miracle!' Warren told himself as he got the seat belt fastened.

###


	6. Chapter 6

_Hey there, everyone! This chapter was a challenge. First, I'm not adept at action scenes, so if that falls flat, my apologies upfront. Authors who are good with that writing technique have my undying respect, and often my rapt attention. How do they do what they do? Anyway, with that said, it's obvious our guys face some action in this next chapter. _

_After that, things go from bad to worse. The badness is here for a purpose, which will unfold slowly throughout the rest of the story. And for those of you who've hung in there with me to this point, you know my love of inner turmoil and characters who face great emotional difficulties. Plus, part of what happens in this chapter will actually be a catalyst for the next story of my envisioned trilogy._

_Thank you to my loyal reviewers: Focus SJS and Louisestarfly! Who could ask for better readers. I know there are quite a number of other story followers out there as the visitor stats and alerts show. If any of the rest of you care to post a review, please – pretty please – do so any time. I'd love to hear both good and bad (as long as it's not mean-spirited, that is)._

_Until chapter seven, then!_

**Chapter Six**

Another look out the front told him it was only seconds now. Then time began to pass in slow motion. He'd been through crash landings before and it truly does happen that way, at least that's how your mind often perceives it as it kicks into overdrive. At the last possible instant, Warren felt the nose of the bucking craft pull up. 'Masterful piloting!' he thought. When the belly of the shuttle slammed into the ground, it was nearly crushing. Objects dislodged and flew across the interior, wall panels popped free and one hit the floor next to Sukja, barely missing him. Even small objects could be lethal in these microseconds, Warren knew.

The sound of the impact seemed to occur seconds afterward, but Warren knew that wasn't actually the case. Metal screeched and groaned. A glance out the front of the shuttle showed the craft careening across an open field, dirt and vegetation being plowed ahead of it. Within moments, the view out the window was blocked by the muddy debris. They seemed to slide across the field for an eternity. Then the craft snagged and spun violently to one side, but miraculously, did not roll; likely because enough momentum had been lost by that time. Suddenly, it was over and all went silent.

Warren quickly unbuckled and moved over to Sukja. He was conscious, but not entirely aware. Had he taken a blow to the head or body? A couple cuts were all Warren could find. Warren knew something had hit him from behind during the crash, but if he was injured, he couldn't feel it. Plus his healing ability would quickly take care of it.

The guard was moaning. He had a nasty gash on his arm, but seemed to be coming around. The co-pilot was also moving, albeit slowly, undoing his seat restraints. The pilot, though, was not. Blood ran from a nasty wound to the side of his head. It wasn't until then that Warren heard the alarms again. They likely had been going off the whole time, but his mind had tuned them out.

"Any of those warnings we need to be concerned about?" Warren asked the co-pilot.

The co-pilot swept his eyes across the controls. "No…No it doesn't appear so, if we're getting accurate readings," the man replied as he shut down various systems to avoid any further problems. With that done, the co-pilot activated the shuttle door. "I'm going outside to see what happened. It felt like an explosion in one of the propulsion units."

"Before you do that, what about our distress signal?" Warren asked. His instincts were telling him this wasn't mechanical failure.

There was a pause. "That's odd…it doesn't appear to be functioning."

"Communications?"

The co-pilot engaged the communication controls several times. He turned to Warren. "We might be in trouble." The man's face was decidedly unhappy. "I think communications are being jammed."

"Shit!"

"Warren, what's going on?" Sukja asked, holding his head with one hand. He was wincing.

"Shuttle approaching!" The co-pilot announced.

"Sirs, we need to arm ourselves! We must assume they are not friends," the guard barked.

The guard attempted to rise, but he yelped in pain and fell back. "Damn, I think my leg is broken!" He looked at Sukja and Warren. "Weapons are in the cabinet there," he pointed.

Warren moved quickly to the weapons locker.

From outside, the sound of a landing shuttle could be heard.

"How's the pilot?" Warren asked as he pulled weapons out of the cabinet. The co-pilot checked the man still unconscious in the pilot's seat. "Not sure, but alive."

Warren handed a weapon to the co-pilot. "How about you?"

"Good."

Warren turned to the guard. "You?"

"My leg is out of commission, but I can still fire a weapon."

"Sukja?"

"I'll manage. And I know how use a gun." Sukja got up, though quite unsteadily, Warren noted, as he took another phase gun from the cabinet.

"Sukja, connect up with Ztar telepathically. We'll hold them off."

The Ozjaerian hesitated. "Archangel, I've never _initiated_ telepathic communication with Ztar – he is always the one…" Sukja looked almost ashamed.

"Then we'll both try! If this turns ugly, I want you to stay down, Sukja."

As if in response to Warren, a loud voice commanded from outside. "Exit the shuttle now!"

This was definitely turning ugly.

"Are sensors working at all?" the guard asked.

"Yes," the co-pilot confirmed.

"How many out there and where?" Warren wanted to know – he was forming a plan.

"Three on the shuttle door side, two ahead of us, and one moving to the rear."

Warren pictured the situation in his mind. Six to take out – good odds for an X-man! But Warren was also at the height of his molt and his maneuverability would be hampered.

"Can you lay down some cover fire for me?" Warren glanced at both the co-pilot and the guard.

"Yes," was the unison answer, but their faces showed doubt about why he was asking.

"Good. As soon as I clear the door, drawn their fire. I'm going to take out our friends. First the ones in front, then the rear, then the ones along our side – if all goes according to plan."

"This is your final warning – exit the shuttle NOW!" a male voice demanded again.

"Just _you_?!" the guard asked in disbelief.

"That's the idea."

"There are six armed men out there, Archangel. Don't be ridiculous!"

"I've been fighting since I was a teenager. It is what I was trained to do." Warren explained to the guard that hadn't a clue to his background.

"He's right," Sukja added. "On his planet, Archangel was a skilled warrior."

The guard's eyes grew wide in amazement, thought for a moment, then he nodded. "I'll go with that, since we may have little choice but to fight," the guard yielded.

The guard and co-pilot positioned themselves on either side of the shuttle door. "Set your guns to hard stun. When I leave, start firing," Warren ordered, working the setting controls on his weapon. Then he exited as fast as he could muster through the shuttle's open hatch.

To Sukja, Archangel was a blur of motion through the shuttle opening. Immediately, the other two men laid out a stream of weapons fire. The sounds of weapons from outside mixed with that from inside the shuttle.

"My god, he got one already!" the guard said to no one in particular.

Warren had trained his weapon on the nearest man to the shuttle door before he was even 10 feet above the ground and he went down swiftly. One of the two remaining men aimed toward the co-pilot and guard in the shuttle and the other targeted Warren. With skill developed over years of battle and training, Warren easily dodged the trail of fire.

He swept up and sideways heading directly at the armed men to the front of the shuttle. A single shot quickly took out one of the two attackers as he dodged and dove toward the second. The move was so quick that the second man barely had time for one shot and Warren was on him. Warren smacked his weapon across the side of the man's head and he was down.

Up and over in evasive maneuvers as shots came from the side of the shuttle. Warren felt himself slightly slip toward one side as he fought against missing flight feathers. As he headed toward the rear of the craft, using the shuttle as a shield from the two men on the opposite side, he was realizing how hampered he was by the molt. It was taking everything he had to maintain fine aerial control.

Inside, Sukja was desperately trying to reach out to Ztar, but either he was mentally incapable of the feat, their attackers were using psychic dampeners, or Ztar was preoccupied.

Out of the corner of his eye, Warren caught sight of a second shuttling landing nearby. "_Damn_!"

With lighting speed, Warren emerged from behind the shuttle as the man to the rear took aim. Warren felt the heat of the phase weapon as it barely missed his outstretched arms. The man didn't get off a second shot before Warren was upon him. Four down, two to go. Up and away again, as weapons fire continued from the side of the shuttle.

The second shuttle was setting down. 'Need to move faster,' Warren thought.

Sukja watched as the co-pilot and guard laid in fire at the two attackers on that side of the shuttle. He listened but did not detect anymore shots from either in front of or behind the shuttle. Had Archangel taken them out already?

As phase fire trailed his flight path, Warren laid in a strafe of his own fire across the door of the just landed shuttle as he flew behind their attackers' first shuttle, where the two remaining men couldn't fire on him. Pulling up hard, Warren changed direction in a split second behind the shuttle, then up and over the top of the craft. Again, he slipped in the air, and struggled to off the tight directional change that under normal circumstances would come with ease.

Just as Warren had expected, one of the men thought he'd emerge from the other side of the shuttle, not over the top. Warren took him out in one shot and dove toward the last of the first six men. The final gunman got off a single shot, that Warren deftly avoided and Warren two-fisted the man to unconsciousness in one swoop.

Risking a peak between the two men firing from the shuttle doorway, he saw Archangel take down one attacker with the weapons blast and the second in a two-fisted dive. Sukja watched as Archangel pulled up sharply and backward, twisted to a right-up position, and began to dive toward the second shuttle when he saw the weapon.

Sukja drove toward the rear of the shuttle as he yelled, "Concussion!!" The blast hit the shuttle and everything shuddered violently. Then blackness descended.

As Warren did an aerial somersault, again fighting hard to compensate for his lack of fine control. He started down toward the second shuttle when the blast hit him. His ears popped and rang intensely and his body vibrated from the inside out. He nearly went unconscious, but held on.

'Just keep flying!' he yelled to himself, forcibly beating his wings that felt heavy and numb from the shockwave.

He swung off to one side to let his healing ability to take the edge off the pain and stunning effect of what was likely a shot from a concussion gun. The effects of the weapon on top of his reduced aerial maneuverability were taking their toll quickly. He needed his healing abilities to work more quickly than ever.

From above he saw that both the co-pilot and the guard were lying unmoving on the floor of the shuttle. What about Sukja? His chest tightened. He couldn't let anything happen to the Ozjaerian!

Weapons fire was again coming at him as soon as he turned back toward the scene of the fight. His body felt heavy and tingly, but head was clearing as he saw two men cautiously enter the Emperor's shuttle, weapons trained.

"Fuck!" Warren swore.

'Ztar if you're listening, now is a good time to talk to me!' Warren shouted out to the Emperor in his mind. No response.

Coming in at full hilt, Warren managed to barely dodge fire from three men from the second shuttle and he returned his own fire. 'One down, two to go!' and he sailed past the group, with trails of phase fire on his heels.

Abruptly changing direction again, his nearly got a second gunman, but missed as the man dodged in apparent anticipation of Warren's move. Warren felt the next shot graze his upper leg and white hot pain traced his thigh. He bit his lip and pulled sharply to his left.

'Take care!' Warren told himself and he flew back behind the second shuttle. Doing a 180, he emerged from where he had slipped behind the shuttle – worked once, why not again with this group? He swung quickly in the direction of the third man when someone shouted his name.

"Archangel! Stand down!!"

He looked over at the Imperial shuttle. One of the attackers had an obviously dazed Sukja trapped in a body-lock with a gun to his head in the shuttle doorway. 'Shit, shit, _shit_!' Warren stopped short and hovered as all weapons quickly locked on him.

"Land immediately!" the man ordered.

"No, Archangel – go to Ztar!!" Sukja yelled, his voice shaky and weak. That got Sukja a hard whack on the side of the head with the gun.

The man smiled at Warren. "Do that and the Emperor's attendant begins to lose body parts!"

"Just go, Archangel! I don't matter!" Sukja implored him again, risking another hit. He couldn't allow the Emperor's most precious companion to be captured. It didn't matter what happened to him. Archangel was to be protected at all costs.

The man holding Sukja continued to smile his sickly grin. "Your choice, human. Fly off to Ztar and I start with the Ozjaerian's fingers."

Warren landed. He wouldn't let them hurt Sukja, not if he could prevent it.

"_No_, Archangel!" Sukja cried as he watched their attackers descend upon the human.

Two men immediately bound Warren's hands behind his back, effectively preventing him from flying or fighting.

The man holding Sukja dragged him toward the same craft as Warren's two escorts were taking him. Once inside, they were shoved to the floor of the craft. Sukja's hands were quickly bound his behind he back. "Gather up the unconscious into the other shuttle," their leader commanded one of the men. Then he turned toward the front of the craft. "Get us back to base."

Sukja leaned his body slightly toward Archangel. "You should have left! Why didn't you? That might have been our only hope." Sukja whispered to Warren.

"I couldn't leave you. X-men never leave anyone behind. I'll do everything I can to protect you – you have my word," Warren answered quietly.

"You still should have left," was all Sukja could say as the shuttle rose and darted into the sky. Sukja feared not only for them, but for Ztar.

"Any idea what could possibly be going on? Why they want us?" Warren asked quietly.

"None."

The man who had been giving orders, stepped up to the pair and gave Sukja a warning kick in the thigh. "No more talking!"

Warren looked out what he could see of the cockpit window. So far they were still in atmosphere. Perhaps they would luck out and not end up on a ship, but stay on Sat'rey. Ztar would have a much better chance of finding them if they didn't leave the planet. Warren closed his eyes and again tried to reach Ztar, but no luck.

Sukja understood what Archangel was attempting. "Likely dampeners," he whispered, with a quick glance at the back of the kidnapper's leader.

Warren kept trying anyway.

Sukja quietly watched Archangel as he attempted to reach Ztar, praying he would succeed. The phase weapon wound on the human's leg was healing before Sukja's eyes. It was fascinating to watch and Sukja focused on that to avoid his fear at least for a couple minutes.

The shuttle ride was relatively short, about 20 minutes by Warren's estimate – also good, at least for now. Yet he also knew a shuttle could cover a lot of ground in that short time.

As soon as they touched down, Warren and Sukja were yanked to their feet and escorted from the craft into a simple, nearly windowless building, down a hall to a cell block area, and then each into a holding pen directly across from one another. Doorway force fields were quickly activated to keep them locked in.

Two guards remained outside the cell block, but everyone else left. A second force field was activated to secure the doorway into the cell area. The pens were very much like jail cells in an Earth prison, but even more stark. Sink, toilet, and dirty pad on the floor. From the looks of it, this was some sort of abandoned detention facility.

"I wonder when we'll find out what they want?" Sukja asked, trying to move his already sore arms against the bindings.

"No telling," Warren said absentmindedly. He was trying to come up with a plan, but so far he had no stroke of brilliance. In this type of situation, Warren wished he had some mutant ability more powerful than wings and a healing factor. Unless their captors made a mistake and he somehow escaped the cell, likely their only hope for escape was via rescue.

A short time had passed when the sound of footsteps could be heard coming down the hall. The cell area force field was dropped to allow a middle-aged, but tough-looking Turzent to enter along with the younger Turzent from the second attack shuttle that had been giving orders. As soon as they were through the cell block entrance, the field was reactivated by the guards who now stood at the ready inside the cell area. The two men approached Sukja's cell and that field was dropped.

The senior Turzent walked up to Sukja, stopping very close to the Ozjaerian in an intimidating stance.

"I am Commander Drex. I have ordered your capture. You will do exactly as I say, when I say. Any trouble will be dealt with harshly," he explained. "Tell me, Sukja, how long do you think it'll be before Ztar knows you're missing?"

"He likely already knows!" Sukja replied confidently.

"Hardly seems possible, since you weren't expected at your destination at any specific time," the Turzent corrected with a wicked smile.

'How does he know that?' Both Warren and Sukja asked themselves.

"Any telepathic calls to Ztar are being blocked, as they were when your shuttle was taken. But I would guess you've already figured that out," Drex continued with a casual confidence. "I must admit I was surprised at how easy this has been. Ztar's security has become complacent."

"You do realize that what you've done means your death. But if you let us go now, I could use my influence to have the death sentence commuted." Sukja offered with equal confidence.

Drex punched Sukja hard in the stomach. It came without warning and Sukja had no time to lessen the blow. It knocked him to his knees and the breath out of his lungs. He curled over in pain.

The Commander leaned down over the Ozjaerian. "There will be no commuted sentence, no matter what you try to tempt me with. Do you think me a fool?! So where does that leave us, Sukja?" Drex paused, rubbing his chin as he righted himself. "I do believe that leaves us with nothing to lose. So you'll believe me when I tell you that unless you do as I say, when I say, the punishment will be severe." The coldness in the man's voice sent shivers through Sukja.

"What do you want with us?!" Sukja demanded as he struggled to stand upright, the world slightly spinning.

"Right now, I have exactly what I want from you – your capture. The rest I will discuss only with Ztar."

Sukja took a step toward their captor to show conviction. "He will find us. You cannot hide from the Emperor."

"Do not underestimate us, Ozjaerian. Your capture was planned with great care and we're well concealed from his telepathy and from traditional scans. It is a large planet. He and Lar won't even know where to begin looking."

Drex turned to one of the guards, "Unbind him."

Then Drex left Sukja's cell and strode the four paces to Warren's. Warren had held his tongue, letting Sukja handle things. It was apparent this man wasn't about to share information readily.

"And here we have the human that has so enthralled our Emperor." The man's eyes lasciviously ran slowly up and down Warren's body. "I can see what the Emperor finds so appealing in you, Archangel." Their captor's smile had become predatory.

Warren ignored the obvious attempt to humiliate and intimidate. "So we're not to know why we're here? Isn't that a little paranoid, Drex? After all, we're behind two force fields and psychic dampeners. What could you possible fear we're going to do with that information?" Warren smiled back smugly at the Turzent.

"Goading me won't work, human. That knowledge isn't something you need. This much I will tell you. If Ztar doesn't comply with our demand, you and the Ozjaerian will pay a heavy price, and Ztar will pay an even heftier one."

"This won't work, Drex. Ztar doesn't negotiate with terrorists." Warren put conviction into his words. Actually, he had no idea how Ztar and his people handled hostage situations.

Drex simply crossed his arms and stared into Warren's face. "Oh, he'll negotiate this time. There are two people in this galaxy that he'd give up much to protect and I have both of them."

"If that's really the case, then you don't really need _both_ of us, do you? Why not let the attendant go? He could more effectively deliver your message than any comlink." It was a long shot, but Warren had to try.

Drex merely shook his head. "Not even worthy of consideration, Archangel. No, we're keeping you both. I like redundancy. Ztar may hesitate at first, but as soon as one of you is found dead, he'll soon realize how very serious we are. The only question would be, which of you dies to make our point."

Warren saw an opening. "That point being…"

Drex eyed Warren with calculation. "I will give you this, Emperor's whore. Ztar trends into very dangerous territory. Turzent's have always been conquerors and rulers. It is what we are. Ztar fulfilled his destiny when he built our empire, but now he is turning his back on our people's right to rule. We will do what is necessary to force the Emperor to realize the wrongness of his path."

Warren realized that all the Drex's men were true Turzents – Ztar's species. Were they dealing with Turzent supremacists?

Sukja edged closer to the front of his cell. "That line of thinking is retro-extremism, Drex. Is that what you're telling us you are?"

The Turzent turned slightly back toward Sukja. "Label it what you wish, attendant. You are not Turzent, you would not understand. Your people bowed to us three generations ago! Our Emperor is temporarily misguided. He needs to be reminded that he is Turzent and what that means. You are both simply tools to that end." Drex turned back to Warren. "You'll be used to make a point. We feel the point needs to be very sharp with Ztar."

"Your point will simply anger him, Drex, and turn him against you. I fail to see why you believe this will have any other affect." Terrorists are all alike, Warren thought. Give them a chance to proclaim their cause, and they'll start talking.

Another disconcerting smile crossed the face of their captor. "Those of us who cannot stand idling by and watch him destroy all we've built are willing to die to preserve the Empire. This will be a rallying cry for others to join us."

"Long live the Empire, right?" Warren provoked mockingly.

Drex seemed to catch himself at that. "You have a sharp tongue for a whore, Archangel. You are another mistake our Emperor has made. Whores are not royal court. You disgrace our Empire."

Rja immediately came to mind. Was she involved in all this? 'God, I hope I'm wrong!' Warren thought.

"You have that very wrong," Sukja voiced. "Clinging to the old ways has warped your perception of reality."

Ignoring Sukja's comment, Drex strode back and forth in front of Warren's cell a couple times, apparently in thought. "Capturing you both unscathed was unexpected." The man said coming to a stop. Then the disquieting smile returned. "One of the things Ztar values most is you, Archangel, as misplaced as that may be. Perhaps we can drive home a secondary point through you. A bonus so to speak. I like bonuses."

Warren didn't like the sound of that. "What are you planning, Drex?"

Their kidnapper ignored his question and Drex turned to the leader from the shuttles that had been standing by quietly. "J'faird, all our plans are in place and nothing of consequence will happen over the next several hours. It's a waiting game right now. Perhaps we can squeeze in a little recreational time for you and any of your men who may be so inclined."

At first the man appeared perplexed, then he began to smile. "Perhaps…"

"You see, J'faird, Ztar likes this one better than any of the other sluts he took in. What if we taint this one – spoil him for the Emperor? Every time he beds him, he'll remember us and our message."

"The idea has merit – and its appeals," J'faird replied, with a leer at Warren. "I'm sure we would have takers among my unit."

'So they do plan on releasing us! That's something at least,' Warren thought, but then the realization hit him where their captor's conversation was leading. His heart raced and he looked at Sukja. Sukja's eyes were wide with fear.

"What are you planning?!" Sukja nearly yelled.

Drex glared at Sukja, "Exactly what I said. We're going to taint the Emperor's plaything so he remembers the folly of his ways. A little bonus any way I look at it!"

"Leave him be, Drex! You can do with me what you want, but leave Archangel alone!" Sukja's heart raced as he fully digested what Drex was suggesting. 'Don't let this happen…if there are any gods in the universe!' he prayed.

The field dropped as Drex quickly re-entered Sukja's cell and punched him in the face, despite Sukja's attempt to block. Sukja went down to the floor hard. Blood trickled from his lip.

"I will do as I please, Ozjaerian!" Drex yelled at Sukja, loaming over the fallen man, poised to strike again.

"Drex, it's _me_ you have a problem with! Why don't you come over here and show me what you want to do!" Warren feared for Sukja. He obviously was not a fighter, but he had courage.

Drex slowly turned away from Sukja and looked back at Warren with a sickening smile.

"As I was saying, we could make our point _and_ have a little fun. J'faird, I believe we have a perfect opportunity here, don't you agree?"

"Agreed, Commander."

"The next few hours are for you and your men for their success today. Make sure that Archangel isn't lonely between visitors."

"Don't do this, Drex. I beg you!" Sukja pleaded from the floor to the Turzent's back.

Drex completely ignored the Ozjaerian and moved back to Warren's cell entrance. "So there is no misunderstanding, human, you will cooperate completely or Sukja will lose a finger, toe, hand, or whatever I please every time you resist. Do you understand?!"

Warren could only nod. He was growing sick.

"This should come easy for you, slut," were Drex's parting words as he and J'faird left.

His heart raced and he was suddenly lightheaded. Warren sat on the floor to fight the dizziness, trying to focus on anything but what he was just told. He tried again reaching out his mind to Ztar, but nothing.

"Archangel, don't worry about me. _Please_, just protect yourself!" Sukja begged. Ztar may never be the same if this happened to Archangel. And Archangel…would this destroy the human that had already been through so much? This couldn't be happening!

Warren looked up at the Ozjaerian, the man who had become as close to being a friend as Warren found in this alien existence. "I will protect you, Sukja, as promised," he told him.

"No, Archangel, it's _you_ that must be protected. Please, I beg you – don't let them…"

"There is little choice, Sukja. We just need to survive until Ztar finds us – that's the only thing that matters right now."

Time passed painfully while Warren thought back to his techniques of detachment. If this was really going to happen, he'd need them. 'God, help me – I don't know if I'll survive this!' he prayed.

Then he heard sounds from down the hall and his heart stopped. Two men entered the cell area, both with bottles of what was likely liquor, laughing. Warren was still seated on the floor so one of the men squatted down outside his cell to be at eye level. Warren knew he should have stood as they approached to show strength, but he didn't.

"Remember me?" the man sneered. "You took me out with your fists. Hurt like hell! But what I'm going do to you is going hurt a whole lot more."

The second man dropped the force field to Warren's cell and looked down. "Remember, you cause problems, your friend pays," he said in a low, threatening voice while unbinding Warren's hands before leaving the cell.

Warren tried to stop the trembling in his body. This was going to be very bad.

"Leave him alone! What kind of men are you??" Sukja cried.

The first man turned sharply to Sukja. "Anything more out of you and we'll make the human pay even more!"

Sukja cringed in his cell atop the dirty pad. Then the man moved into Archangel's cell, the force field was reactivated and put into privacy mode. Sukja could not see into the cell anymore with the field now translucent. Just as well – he didn't want to see what these men were going to do. Hearing would be bad enough.

Warren just sat still on the musty pad on the floor. How many others had been brutalized on this floor, he wondered as the man pushed him onto his back. The pad wasn't soft like a mattress and the when the man's weight came down on Warren, he bit back the sharp pains it sent though the wing joints.

A hand grabbed Warren's chin. "Give me one of the kisses you give Ztar," and the man came down hard on Warren's mouth. Another hand grabbed a wing and squeezed hard, causing Warren to jerk.

"Now let's see if we can taint Ztar's plaything, shall we?" the man snickered, as he pulled up to grin wickedly at Warren.

As much as Warren knew the words were meant to humiliate and he shouldn't let them, the words did. They hit too close home.

"Drex said we should indulge ourselves, and I plan on doing exactly that. And I like it rough – very rough." The voice dripped with lewdness.

Sukja could hear Warren gasps and stifled cries as the man raping him brutally took what he wanted. Sukja tried not to listen – it was too horrible. This was his fault! Somehow he should have convinced Archangel to fly away when they crashed and leave Sukja alone to this fate.

Over the next hours, Warren was visited by…how many?…of J'faird's men. He couldn't remember. There was no rest in between and his body burned with pain. It hadn't taken long for his visitors to figure out he healed almost immediately. That knowledge caused them to be even more vicious.

Every self-preservation instinct screamed for him to fight back, but he knew Sukja would pay dearly if he did. Warren did his best to separate mind from body, but the intensity of the attacks kept pulling him back. The worst was when they entered him, hard and violently – the pain nearly drove him to unconsciousness. Mercifully, toward last, his body became almost numb. It was better then, it didn't hurt so much.

For Sukja, the worst was the one that made Archangel beg.

"What do you want me to do, Archangel?" Sukja heard the man ask with a sickening false ignorance.

Sukja did not hear a response from Archangel.

"What was that, I couldn't hear you?" A bit of anger was now present in the man's tone.

"Just do it!" came Archangel's reply, but it no longer sounded like the voice of the human.

"You want it rough?" A pause. "Say it!" The man's voice was loud and angry.

Sukja couldn't make out what Archangel had said next. There was a sound like a punch to the body.

"Perhaps Sukja will answer differently? I wonder if he's been with the Emperor? Perhaps the two of you share his bed."

"Sukja isn't as much fun as I am," Sukja heard Archangel say next in a ragged voice.

"But it would be fun to find out! Especially since you seem to be less than cooperative at the moment."

"You don't what the Ozjaerian."

"Why not? He is desirable enough. Maybe I'll have both of you!"

"I have many talents the Ozjaerian couldn't even imagine," it sounded like someone else talking – not the Emperor's precious Archangel. Sukja knew the human was trying to redirect this man back to himself. "My body is made to excite – I offer many pleasures no one else can." Archangel's voice was lusty.

"You want me to fuck _you_?"

"Yes."

"Long and hard?"

"Yes."

"Tell me how much you want it, just to make sure I don't want Sukja instead."

"I want you now. You can do whatever you wish."

"Then let's get started. It's going to be fun fucking an Esserru!" and the man laughed. And the sounds of savage sex began again.

Sukja cried though most of the rapes. He rocked back and forth in the corner of his cell, covering his ears at times as the assaults continued for what seemed like eternity. How could Archangel come through this whole?

'Ztar, please find us!' he called out in his mind.

###

Ztar was on his way to his office to handle some last minute details between tending to his arriving guests. The grand reception was only two days away, and there was much yet to do. Out of nowhere a sickening feeling washed over him. He slowed his pace trying to determine what was happening. Something wasn't right…but what? He opened wide his mental awareness. Then another wave passed through him.

He reached out with his telepathy for Archangel. Nothing! Sukja? Nothing! Farther and farther he sought with his mind. Where were they? He should have been able to touch them no matter where they were on the planet. Unless they were in an area protected by telepathic dampeners.

When the third wave of sickening sensations washed through his mind, he focused his empathic connection specifically to Archangel – pushed it farther and opened it wider than he'd done before.

"Oh my god!! Archangel, _no_!!" He grabbed the window ledge to keep from hitting the floor. The pain-racked empathic connection told him that Archangel was likely being tortured. Ztar then extended specifically to his attendant. Sukja's connection was filled with horror and despair.

One of the house staff saw the Emperor and came running.

"Emperor, what's wrong? Are you ill?" the young woman said.

Ztar's mind was overwhelmed; he couldn't find the strength to telepathically summon security.

"Find Lar – Archangel and Sukja have been taken!"

Merryth ran like the wind to the nearest comm and called security. Her Emperor needed help and she would do what she could. Racing back to Ztar she saw he was now on the floor and his face contorted.

"Emperor, they are coming!" she said in an urgent whisper. "I'll call the medics…"

Ztar shook his head, "They cannot help with this. I need to get up."

"Perhaps you shouldn't."

"No, I need to get up. Help me."

She let Ztar pull on her shoulder and arm to get to his feet. It was obvious his legs were shaky and he was in great distress, but she would do as he commanded. As they made their way down the hall, Ztar leaned on the Merryth's small frame. In less than one minute, Head of security Cronit Lar and two of his officers came sliding around the corner at a full run.

"Emperor, what has happened?" Lar called out before the trio had come to a stop.

"Sukja and Archangel have been kidnapped. They are being hurt! We must find them quickly!"

"Let's get downstairs," Lar suggested. "We need to find out the last time there was any communication from their shuttle." The security chief commed ahead to his office and issued a number of orders.

Lar looked at the female who was still holding up the Emperor. He recognized her as one of the housekeeping staff. Merryth was her name. "Ztar, let me help you – this young woman is tiring," Lar said as they exchanged places.

Ztar looked into the young woman's eyes. "Thank you..." Ztar prompted for a name.

"My name is Merryth. I'm honored to be of service!" she flashed a brief, concerned smile. "I hope all turns out well, my Emperor."

Lar looked at the young woman sternly. "You are not to discuss this with anyone, do you understand?"

Merryth's eyes widened. "Yes, sir."

"As long as you are clear that failure to follow my orders is a punishable offense, you are free to go." Then seeing her fear, Lar smiled. "Thank you, Merryth. You did well today."

Merryth left hurriedly, disappointed that she could tell no one that she was there when their Emperor needed help.

"Report!" Lar ordered his second in command as soon as they entered the room.

"Sukja's shuttle has not been heard from since leaving the palace three hours ago. But they had left the arrival time at their destination flexible, no warning flags had yet been raise at that end."

"It appears a dummy locator beacon was deployed as sub-orbital tracking shows their shuttle at the beverage house, yet according to the staff there, they never arrived. Hence, we must assume the locator beacon was not activated on the shuttle. So at this point, it's impossible to know where the shuttle actually is. It will take awhile longer for traffic control to report back on the shuttle's last possible position from the old-style ground tracking system. As you know, sir, if the shuttle dropped below the scan horizon…"

Lar nodded. If the shuttle did, there would be no tracking it. "You've rounded up all shuttle maintenance staff?" Lar inquired, but he already knew the answer.

"Naturally."

Lar turned back to Ztar. "Emperor, is there anything your telepathic or empathic connections can tell us about their location?"

"I have no telepathic contact with them. There must be dampeners working. But I was able to establish an empathic connection with both. I'm afraid it is much less helpful. As you know, I get feelings and sensations, but no specific information. We've received no ransom or other demands?" Ztar wanted to know.

"As of yet, no. But they haven't been missing that long. Kidnappers will sometimes wait to allow desperation to set in as it becomes clear the taken cannot be easily located. You said they're being hurt, but could it be they are simply injured from a shuttle crash?" If they were indeed being tortured, every minute counted.

"No, Lar. What I'm getting is not pain from injury – there is too much fear and horror for that. Someone is doing this to them." Ztar was sickened with just the thought of what must be happening to Archangel and Sukja. He knew Archangel was the one in extreme distress, at least at the moment.

Lar thought for a moment. "You once told me the empathic connection is stronger the closer you are to the source. Perhaps we can use it as a homing beacon."

The Emperor perked up. "Perhaps!"

"First, we need to have a place to start."

Lar turned to his second in command. "Prepare for a search and hostage rescue – three shuttles." Lar's officers busied themselves with those preparations while Lar excused himself to advise General Gtar-Cro's office and planetary security of the incident.

Ztar maintained his connection to the two men, but it had faded considerably in strength. It was nearly impossible to sustain a strong empathic connection over great distance, unlike telepathy. It just worked differently. Ztar managed to hold on to light contact, but even that filled him with pain and dread. He rose from the chair and paced the security area. Ztar was helpless at the moment when the two people that meant the most to him needed him, and it was driving him out of his mind.

'Stay calm and in control,' he told himself. 'You do Sukja and Archangel no good if you don't!'

After what seemed an eternity, one of the security staff walked up. "Sirs, we have a report from traffic. It seems the shuttle was indeed tracked until it reached the Aspend Valley. There it disappeared from sensors. But there's more. Two other vehicles with no transmitters or beacons also entered the Aspend Valley at the same time our shuttle disappeared. Then a short while later, only _two_ shuttles left the valley."

"And does tracking have information on where those shuttles headed?" Ztar asked.

"They left the valley in a southeasterly direction, but then dipped below the old-style tracking horizon and were lost."

Ztar looked deflated.

"It's a start, Emperor. We can go to Aspend Valley and head southeast while you home in on Sukja and Archangel through your connection."

"That assumes they headed in a straight line. What if they changed directions completely after sinking below tracking?"

"Like I said, it's a start," Lar encouraged, but he had been thinking also that their chances for success were very slim. Yet it was the only chance they had at the moment.

###

Warren's body was beyond endurance when the last of his visitors left. Despite his healing ability, he was consumed by pain. He was oblivious to time and nearly so to his surroundings. All he could do was lie on the mattress pad that was now covered in feathers and drenched in sweat, blood, and other bodily fluids.

Sukja almost didn't want to look when the sixth man left and turned off the privacy mode of the force field to Archangel's cell, but he did. Archangel was lying nude on his stomach, wings spread out around him. Archangel's eyes were closed, and Sukja couldn't tell if he was conscious or not.

Sukja called out Archangel's name with great difficulty; barely above a whisper. He was so afraid for the human he could hardly speak.

Warren heard his name distantly. It was Sukja's voice. Then he heard his name again and with effort he raised his head toward the sound.

The look in Archangel's eyes tore Sukja's heart out. He started to cry again. "I'm so sorry – so sorry!" Sukja choked as he crawled as close to his cell's force field as he dare.

Warren registered Sukja's distress. He saw the tear-stained face and the anguished eyes. He had sworn to protect this man and he would. He pulled himself together enough to speak. "It's okay, Sukja," was all he could muster.

Sukja looked at him in dismay. "It's not _okay_! It's _not_ okay that you've protected me like this! I will see them all dead, I swear to you!!" Sukja nearly sobbed again in rage and anguish.

Warren just laid his head back down and let exhaustion take him into welcomed unconsciousness as his body recuperated.

###

Warren had healed quickly, reawakened and pulled on his torn, dirty clothes. Sukja seemed almost as emotionally numb as Warren and they spoke few words. Warren sat in the back corner of his cell, knees pulled up to his chest in his protective cocoon of feathers.

"Ztar will come, Archangel. He will find us!" Sukja encouraged, though to Warren it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as Warren.

"I know he will. We just need to hang on 'til then," Warren replied, praying it was sooner rather than later for both their sakes as he heard approaching footsteps.

Drex entered the detention block and went straight to Warren's cell. Warren forced himself to stand to make a point.

"So, you've recovered," Drex said coldly. "I hear you have amazing healing abilities. J'faird's men said it made for a much more enjoyable time." Drex smiled slickly.

"What do you want, Drex? Have you talked with Ztar yet?" Warren asked flatly.

"My discussions with the Emperor are not your concern. But what I want right now is _you_, Imperial whore." As Drex reached for the force field button, he added "The rules are the same as before. Any trouble and Sukja takes the punishment." Then he lowered the field and stepped inside. The guard reactivated the field in privacy mode.

"If it was only you and me, Drex, you'd be dying right now," Warren said with cold hatred.

Drex smiled smugly. "No doubt you'd try. Sadly for you, Sukja's continued wellbeing prevents the attempt. Now lie down, slut. I'm going to take a very long time with you. I'm going to make sure that Ztar sees me in your mind when he beds you."

Warren did as instructed and Drex on was him with force. As he endured yet another rape, he reached out desperately with his mind, hoping beyond hope he might reach the Emperor.

###

In the Aspend Valley, they found the crashed Imperial shuttle. The pilot, co-pilot, and guard were all dead from a single shot to the head. They'd send someone for the bodies. Ztar and his security force shuttles lifted off and headed southeast. Ztar opened his empathic connection as wide as he knew how. The feelings coming from Archangel at the moment weren't painful, but they were still filled with intense dread, as were Sukja's.

After a few minutes in the southeast direction, Ztar felt the same sick feelings sweep over him as he felt in the palace. It was happening again! Couldn't the gods have mercy? Ztar felt he'd lose his mind at the thought of what was happening to his precious Archangel. He roared as the pain and despair tore through him.

"Emperor, what's happening?!" Lar knelt beside Ztar.

"Archangel is… they're hurting him again. We need to find them!" Ztar said in a choked whisper.

"Can you tell, are we getting closer?"

"No, I can't tell. The feelings are strong, but I can't tell yet if they're strengthening or not." Rage filled him from his helplessness. They _had_ to find them soon! But now was not the time to lose control, Ztar reminded himself. He needed to stay focused to have any chance of saving Sukja and Archangel. Ztar sat quietly for a many minutes and didn't speak again until he was fairly certain.

"Lar, I think we're getting closer…" Ztar said quietly. He remained absorbed in the emotions and sensations hitting him, carefully monitoring their intensity for any changes. It took all of his considerable mental control not to be overwhelmed by the increasingly painful sensations flowing from Archangel.

The security chief stood, but stayed close to his ruler. "Stay on course," he ordered the pilot. Lar glanced back at the Emperor with concern. The strong, tough Turzent was trembling and pale. Whatever Ztar was experiencing through the empathic connection had to be intense. He hoped for everyone's sake they found Sukja and Archangel soon.

###

Drex was true to his word, he took his time with Warren. Every pain filled sensation was drawn out in agonizing slow motion. Drex had several toys in his arsenal that he employed on Warren – each meant to cause torment. Time lost meaning as the torture and rape continued. Every time a cry escaped Warren's lips, Drex punished him more – threatened Sukja more. "Not a sound from you, Archangel. You will take this quietly. One more sound and Sukja loses his first fingers!"

Unable to fight back or scream, Warren's mind did what it could to block what was happening to his body that didn't seem to belong to him anymore. His detachment strengthen as the pain escalated. In one last desperate attempt, he gathered every ounce of mental energy remaining in his battered body and mind and projected it out to the Emperor.

###

Ztar nearly collapsed as the emotional burst hit him from Archangel. Despite the connection being empathic and not telepathic, Ztar heard/felt Archangel's cry for him. His Archangel was in horrible pain and he was calling to Ztar!

"Head that direction!" Ztar commanded, pointing to his left. Ztar wasn't sure how, but he knew that was the right direction.

With each passing minute, the connection grew stronger. Archangel was still in immense pain and it nearly staggered him. Then suddenly, Ztar knew. "Scan below us now! He's here!" Ztar yelled. The Emperor was visibly shaking.

"Two shuttles are inside a building there," the co-pilot pointed to a small cluster of buildings nestled near a wooded area in the countryside. "Sensors cannot penetrate the largest building, however. It must be shielded."

"Ztar, you're sure this is where they are?"

Ztar knew without a doubt they had found Sukja and Archangel. Archangel's empathic presence was so intense it nearly consumed him.

"I am positive!"

###

_Author's Note: I hope to have Chapter Seven posted more quickly than the last couple. Stay tuned!_


	7. Chapter 7

_As promised, here is the next installment a little more quickly than I've been posting, and a little shorter. Without further ado, let's see what happens next!_

**Chapter Seven**

"Commander! You must come immediately!" An urgent voice came from the other side of the force field.

Drex raked his hand through Warren's wet hair. "I'll be back and we'll pick up where we left off," he said with a sadistic smile and the Turzent left as soon as the force field dropped.

Warren watched Drex leave through a haze of pain. He also felt something else – an emotional presence. Ztar! He didn't question how it was possible, Warren just accepted that Ztar's connection with him defied the psychic dampeners.

Sukja crawled toward the doorway to his cell. Archangel was breathing heavily and trembling violently from whatever Drex had been doing to him.

"Archangel, can you hear me?" Sukja asked gently.

At first there was no response, but Sukja waited.

"Yes, Sukja," Archangel's voice was raw and raspy when the reply finally came.

Warren felt his body begin to deal with Drex's abuses as he lay quietly and focused his mental senses on Ztar. Warren didn't want to say anything to Sukja yet in case their conversations were being monitored. There was no telepathic link with Ztar, it was purely emotion. One emotion – rage!

Within a couple minutes, the sound of weapons fire could be heard echoing down the hallway. Warren sat up slowly against the residual pain and looked at Sukja. "He found us. We need to be ready," he said as he started pulling on his tattered clothing once again.

###

Lar had decided a stealth approach was already not an option as shuttle sensors indicated they had been detected the moment their crafts had come into sight of the compound. As soon as their shuttles touched down, they were under attack. So much for starting things off with negotiating a release, the security head bemoaned. Fast and hard was now their best option. Kidnappers usually don't kill their prisoners without giving warning and Lar was gambling that would be the case this time as well. If an opportunity was presented to negotiate, they would do so.

Ztar allowed his rage consume him. He would neither show mercy or hold back. The interior of his shuttle nearly crackled with the Emperor's building energy field and mental force. Security officers laid down fire as the shuttle door opened. Ztar didn't wait, he spotted three of terrorists through the cockpit window. In a single mental bolt, he slammed into the minds of the three men – shredding their consciousness. They screamed as they dropped dying to the ground. His rage shielded Ztar from most of the backlash he usually felt when he killed telepathically.

Ztar had taken one critical piece of information from the men before they died – where Sukja and Archangel were being held.

'Lar, the far side of the largest building. That's where they're keeping them!' Ztar telepathed to the security chief.

With the shuttle doors opened, Ztar's security officers spilled out of the three shuttles. Weapons fire came at them from several points.

"Emperor, stay inside, we'll get them!"

"Not on your life, Lar! I'm taking these bastards down myself!"

"Then stay with me and Gragne." Lar knew it would do no good to argue with the Emperor.

Ztar nodded, but was already shimmering in the doorway of the shuttle and Lar knew what was coming. Ztar laid in an energy blast in the direction of two gunmen firing at the shuttle. Bodies and what they had been using for cover flew backward with lethal force.

Shots were coming at them from various directions, but Ztar was focused in one direction only, the main building. He would let nothing stop him from reaching his target. As they ran toward the structure, Lar and Gragne provided the cover fire Ztar needed to do his work. Wherever Ztar touched a mind, he tore it open and sliced through without mercy. Most didn't even have time to scream. When multiple attackers presented a good target, Ztar hit them with an energy blast so powerful it shattered bodies and any other objects in its path.

Lar watched in awe as Ztar unleashed his abilities – nothing held back, no restraint. He had never witnessed Ztar so powerful. Lar wasn't sure Ztar even knew he and Gragne were there any more, but the two men continued to protect their Emperor from the unexpected.

Ztar's felt his power grow as he left a path of death and destruction toward Sukja and Archangel. His abilities were not lessening with the expenditure as he would have expected. Their power flooded him. He hadn't felt this way since the augmentation when the mutations forced upon him by the scientists manifested and his natural abilities were suddenly triggered. That day years ago, his powers were wild and untrained and he had no idea how to wield them except at full blast. There was no subtly in the damage he inflicted on the people that had caused him the overwhelming pain that had wrenched his body. He simply lashed out and people died. Today was different – he wielded his powers with precision and the devastation was awe-inspiring and frightening.

Ztar homed in on the exact location of Archangel and Sukja as they approached the building. Ztar had ripped from the minds of his victims the name of their leader – Drex. Ztar would save his best for that one!

Imperial security had already blasted down the front door as Ztar approached. A pre-emptive energy blast through the entrance took out another gunman. Down the main hall and around a corner and the cell block was visible. When Ztar scanned the cells, he got nothing – the dampeners were still on. The empathic signals, though, told him that they hadn't gone far.

"Emperor, they're outside and heading for their shuttles!" Lar said when his men outside commed.

Ztar immediately refocused on getting between the terrorists and where they were heading, with Lar and Gragne close behind.

###

When things had quickly and obviously turned very bad for them, Drex ran back to the cell block with J'faird and two others. Grabbing and binding their hostages hand's behind their back, they headed out the rear of the building, using Sukja and Archangel as shields. Drex had Archangel. J'faird took Sukja. They would take no chances on being easy targets.

Drex yelled at the Imperial forces. "Stay back! Anyone moves and these two die!" Drex kept his weapon against the back of Archangel's head.

Lar's men didn't move, but kept weapons aimed at the targets. Hostage situations were always tricky.

Drex and company moved past the main building and turned the corner toward the building housing the shuttles. Ztar emerged from behind a small outbuilding, positioning himself between the terrorists and their destination.

"You are a fool, Drex. Do you really think you'd get away with this?" he asked calmly.

"Stand down, Ztar, or we'll start with Archangel! I'm betting my trigger finger is faster than anything you can throw at me – physically or mentally!"

It was indeed possible that Drex could kill Archangel before Ztar could kill him with a mental blast. It was also possible that Drex was psychically sensitive and able to detect any mental intrusion. Ztar would not gamble with Archangel's life on either point. They would do this the old fashioned way. So Ztar simply stood, his guards behind him, smiling what he hoped was a confident and intimidating grin.

'Ztar?' Warren reached out.

'My Archangel!' Ztar touched back.

Warren quickly sent Ztar images of what he wanted to do. It might just work. Ztar mentally nodded in agreement. This needed to be a coordinated effort between him and Archangel and pulled off with split-second timing. No room for error. Ztar mentally informed Lar how things were going to go down.

"That is true, you could kill Archangel before I kill you, but you would still be dead," Ztar explained as if talking to a simpleton.

The small group of terrorists tightened up, as anticipated they would, coming to a full stop several yards from Ztar. Warren knew J'faird and Sukja were behind and to the left of Drex. He'd wait for the right moment – for Ztar's signal.

"But I'll have taken from you what you hold most dear!" Drex said with seeming pride, repositioning the phase weapon against Warren's head to emphasize his point.

"I think you put more value on my whore than he's worth. There have been many before him and there will be many after him," Ztar said without emotion. He hated the words as he spoken them, but he wanted to rattle Drex just a little.

"This one is special to you!" the terrorist replied with conviction.

"I think your intelligence reports are flawed." Ztar replied coolly.

"You don't lie well, Emperor," Drex smiled. "What other whore has risen to Imperial staff? No, this one is special or we wouldn't still be standing here talking. Let us pass to our shuttles, now!"

Ztar smiled one of his condescending grins. "Drex, you are so caught up in the old ways. Your views of what is proper do not apply to my Empire. I make my own rules – not Emperors from times long gone. In my Empire, Imperial staff is whatever I please it to be. If I wish for my bedmates to be staff, that is what they will be. That doesn't make this human any more special than the ones to follow him. He is simply the first and it amuses me to call him Imperial staff." Ztar shifted his stance to one more reflective of boredom with the situation. "He still does in bed whatever I wish and follows my every command. I use him for my purposes and when he no longer pleases me, I will find another who does," Ztar continued. "So if you kill this one, it will cause me to search for another, true. But when you're Emperor, you have your choice of bedmates."

"Then I should kill him now and get this over with!"

"By all means, let's end this," Ztar agreed.

He read the subtle mental change in Drex's conviction in the worth of his hostage. It caused Drex to hesitate and momentarily lose his mental focus ever so slightly.

Warren felt the signal from Ztar. In a sudden, sharp move, Warren pulled himself down quick and hard into the Drex's knees. Drex lost his balance and his grip on Warren as he was pushed backward and struggled to regain his footing. Warren twisted and dove toward Sukja.

Within a split second of Warren breaking Drex's hold, Ztar lashed out at the terrorist's mind. He locked it down hard, and squeezed.

Warren's head and shoulder connected with Sukja's legs in a sideways blow. Sukja's legs flew out from beneath him and he descended hard to the ground, robbing J'faird of his shield.

At the same instant, Ztar blew through J'faird's mind, killing him quickly. The Imperial security forces took out the remaining two terrorists. Lar quickly directed his unit to do a thorough sweep of the grounds and buildings.

Warren was on his knees and Sukja on his side on the ground.

"Are you okay?" Warren asked Sukja. The Ozjaerian nodded as Lar and Gragne moved in to release Sukja and Archangel's bindings.

Ztar had the target of his rage and he wasn't about to let him off with a quick death like the others. This was the man who had planned the attack and tortured Archangel. From Drex's mind, Ztar ripped from him the reasons, his informants, fellow conspirators, and other information. Drex was on the ground, hands holding his head as Ztar stole information without regard to the pain and damage being done. Drex screamed in agony. One of the Imperial guards snatched away the terrorist's dropped weapon.

Ztar approached Drex, smiling down viciously. "Perhaps you regret your foolishness now?!"

Drex screamed as Ztar sliced through his mind again. The terrorist's body shook violently from the assault.

"You will not die quickly, Drex. I know everything you did." Ztar poured molten lava over Drex's mind. The terrorist curled up on the ground, screaming again.

Warren looked at Ztar. His body was shimmering and Warren knew what was coming. The energy field left Ztar's body and flowed over Drex, but this was not a lethal assault. This was intended to cause excruciating pain. Drex continued to scream from his fetal position in the dirt.

As much as Warren wanted to see Drex suffer, this was torture and Ztar would come to regret his reversion to cruelty, or at least Warren hoped that would be the case.

"Ztar, stop!" Warren called out both aloud and mentally.

Ztar up at Warren, his eyes narrow and filled with wrath. "He will pay for what he did to you!"

"If vengeance is to be had, it is _mine_, not yours!" Warren demanded.

"He must suffer as you did! More than you did!" Ztar was firm in that belief.

"Drex must pay for what he did, yes. But not like this! You are better than torture, Ztar. This is not right no matter what he has done."

"He deserves this! He brought it upon himself!"

"Ztar, don't do this. You are better than him! Show me that you've changed. That you've left that part of you behind!" Warren pleaded with Ztar. Torture was never justifiable – ever!

Ztar looked at the man lying at his feet whimpering. His mind flashed back to the second night Ztar was with Archangel, four years ago. Archangel had laid whimpering in the same way as Drex – body and mind beyond what it could endure. He closed his eyes against the memory. What had he done that night? How could he have been so cruel? Archangel deserved so much better. But the man that had so abused Archangel no longer existed; at least that's what Ztar had been telling himself for three years now. Was he wrong? Had he not changed as much as he had thought?

Opening his eyes, he looked at Archangel sitting on the ground. With everything he had been through at the hands of the terrorists, Archangel was begging for mercy for his torturer. This unique human who reawakened his gentle side, who was the reason Ztar knew how to care again, was asking Ztar to not revert back to four years ago. Ztar realized in that moment that if he didn't stop now, he risked undoing all the good Archangel had done. Ztar began to sicken with the knowledge of what he was doing to Drex. He couldn't finish what he started; not and be able to look into Archangel's beautiful face again.

He sighed and signaled Lar to take the terrorist leader away.

Ztar was with Archangel in an instant, taking him into his arms and holding the human's head against his chest. Emotions flooded him and Ztar began to weep quietly, clutching Archangel tightly. Then he moved Archangel away from his chest and looked down into the face of the human he loved. He brushed the matted hair away from his face. There were no words he could say to erase what had happened over the past many hours. All he could do was send calming feelings through the human.

Warren allowed Ztar to soothe him. He actually welcomed it – let the feelings push away the horrors.

Ztar grabbed the Ozjaerian's hand and held it tightly. He looked at his attendant – his faced badly bruised and his lip cut and swollen. Ztar realized just how much he meant to him. Sukja had stood next to Ztar for all the many years no matter what Ztar had done. He loved this man. Not like he loved Archangel, but as a steadfast friend.

"Archangel protected me, Ztar," was all Sukja could manage as his voice choked with sobs.

"I couldn't let them hurt you, Sukja. That wasn't a choice," Warren stately simply.

Sukja put his hand on Archangel's shoulder and looked at him as tears ran down his face. "There is always a choice, Archangel. You could have let them do with me as they pleased and spared yourself. As always, you chose self-sacrifice. I'm not sure I deserve that, but know I will be eternally grateful."

The three men sat on the ground for while Lar and his unit went about their work. Within a few minutes, Lar walked tentatively up to the trio. "My Emperor, you should go back to the palace now. We will finish up here."

The trip back to the palace was made in silence, Ztar still holding onto Archangel and Sukja sitting close.

###

The evening of the kidnapping Archangel and Sukja spent in the palace infirmary with Ztar's personal physician attending to the two men. Archangel had fully recovered from his physical injuries by the time they landed at the palace, and Sukja would recover from his minor injuries in a few days. The emotional traumas would take far longer.

At first, Ztar would not leave their sides. He didn't care in the least that he had house guests who had arrived for the reception. If they didn't understand his need to be with his attendant and companion, they weren't worth his time.

"My Emperor, you need to at least spend sometime with your guests. They have come far to be here," Sukja insisted from his infirmary bed.

"They will keep," Ztar insisted, sitting in a chair between the two most important people in his life.

"Sukja is right, Ztar. Go to your guests. Sukja and I will be fine," Warren injected.

"My place is here!" Ztar was firm.

"You're being stubborn," Warren pointed out. "There is nothing for you to do here, except make Sukja and me upset that you're ignoring our guests."

Ztar studied each of men carefully before answering. "The last thing I want to do is cause you to be upset, but I suspect you are manipulating me into doing exactly what I don't want to do."

"You are Emperor, and at times that means putting your personal needs aside. This is one of those times," Sukja said matter-of-factly. "Archangel is right, there is more nothing for you to do right now. We will be released soon to our chambers. You can come by to check on us before you retire."

The drugs given to both victims were taking the edge off the emotional pain quite effectively and making them drowsy. Sukja knew at least for tonight, he and Archangel would likely sleep dreamlessly. Tomorrow, though…they'd deal with that tomorrow.

Ztar finally relented and left the infirmary to perform his Imperial duties with a heavy heart.

###

Warren cried violently for a long time in the dimly lit shower in the very early morning hours, hugging his knees to his chest in the corner on the floor. He had already taken one shower before collapsing into bed a few hours earlier despite being nearly unconscious from the sedative. Upon waking, though, the need to cleanse himself again had been overwhelming, just like it had four years ago on the Mi-Lartui the first time Ztar raped him. He felt vile and dirty.

While Warren had taken the sedative before retiring, he did not take the second drug prescribed by the physician to ease emotional distress. Warren never liked drugs of any sort – sometimes they reacted badly to his physiology. But now memories of what he'd endured forced their way through the mental blocks Warren thought he had erected. Without mercy, they bombarded him. It was almost worst than the rapes and torture themselves, certain scenes playing over and over. He couldn't stop them.

Finally in desperation, he crawled out of the shower and to where the drugs sat on the vanity. With shaking hands he down two of the capsules and then sat wet and nude on the floor in the bathroom, too weak to move any further.

The images kept coming, one after the other. The smell of alcohol and the feel of the damp, dirty pad beneath him. The men's hands on his body, over his wings. The pain of them inside him. The slow, agonizing torture by Drex. The laughs and crude remarks. He put his hands over his ears in an attempt to shut out the laughs. Wrenching sobs racked his body again.

Suddenly, someone was standing in the dark doorway of the bathroom. Fear gripped him and he gasped. Warren was back in his cell and yet another visitor had come calling. He shrank back, pressing tight against the vanity. But instead of hurting him, this visitor knelt down and took him in his arms. A warming feeling flooded his mind – soft, gentle, soothing, filled with compassion. Warren grabbed the source of the comfort to escape the horrors bombarding him. Then he felt them melt away. He wrapped his arms and wings tightly around this gentle visitor. Warren felt safe and protected.

###

The Emperor had finally drifted off to sleep from sheer exhaustion, knowing both Archangel and Sukja were also sleeping. Ztar had been most worried about Archangel not resting through the night. Knowing his patient's unusual physiology, the physician had given Archangel a powerful, time-released sedative he had thought would keep the human out until morning.

Suddenly, Ztar was yanked awake. The empathic pain was like a knife through his mind. Archangel was in crisis. Within moments, he was in Archangel's chambers. He saw the human sitting on the floor, wet, sobbing, and shaking violently. He gathered the human to him and telepathically soothed Archangel's mind. Then he suppressed the horrifying memories overpowering the human's ability to block out. Ztar held Archangel until the shaking and crying ceased.

Glancing up, Ztar saw the open drug container. Probing Archangel's mind, Ztar found he had indeed taken two sedatives just a few minutes earlier. Ztar was relieved. The drug would soon take hold and Archangel should sleep dreamlessly for a few more hours.

Archangel clung to him. The wings came forward and enveloped them as the two men sat wrapped together. In a little while, Ztar felt Archangel's body relax as the drugs did their work and he fell asleep. Ztar carried the still wet human to the bed and he crawled in next to Archangel. He covered them both in the blankets and drew the human near. Ztar would not leave Archangel again until he woke.

###

Morning dawned hot and arid; a typical Imperial Valley mid-summer day. Ztar rose up on one elbow and watched as Archangel began to slowly wake.

"I'm here with you, my Archangel," Ztar whispered. Given how traumatized he was, Ztar didn't want Archangel to be momentarily frightened by another body next to him.

"Ztar?" Warren asked to be certain it was the Emperor. His tongue felt thick and words were hard to form.

"Yes, my Archangel. You are safe."

Warren slowly opened his eyes to the sound of Ztar's voice. His mind felt mushy and his vision was blurry.

"We're home?" He asked just to be sure he wasn't hallucinating or dreaming; that he still wasn't in the cell.

Ztar heart swelled at the words "we're home."

"We're home and safe." Ztar gently brushed aside the stray hair from Archangel's face. The blue eyes were dull and lifeless, maybe not even completely focused.

Warren closed his eyes again. Thinking was difficult, but it seemed he was back in his chambers. He let that sink in. But if it was a hallucination, he welcomed it.

"Found us." It was statement to confirm he was interpreting the situation correctly.

"We did, remember? And Sukja is also safe. We're at the palace," Ztar reassured, stroking across Archangel's forehead and hair as one would soothe a child.

Warren felt his mind beginning to clear. He was at the palace, safe. Sukja was safe. Ztar was in the bed with him. Light filled the room. It was morning. He took a deep breathe and exhaled slowing and opened his eyes again. Ztar's face was above him.

"Thank you." He meant it. The man had likely saved their lives.

Ztar simply smiled down at Archangel and brushed his hand over the blond waves again. Would his Archangel survive this? He prayed that would be so to the gods he hadn't prayed to in a very long time.

At that moment, Ztar felt Sukja stirring in the part of his mind he had kept in monitoring mode with the Ozjaerian. He didn't want Sukja to wake alone either.

"I'm going to go to Sukja now, Archangel. He's waking. I'll be back."

Warren nodded. It was a good idea.

Ztar rose and left the room through the front entrance. Warren stayed in bed and closed his eyes again to drift. A few minutes later, Ztar returned with a still groggy Sukja in tow.

Warren sat up slowly as Sukja approached the bed. The two men embraced when Sukja sat down.

Shock is an amazing thing. It had gotten them through the hours after the kidnapping, and now it was like they were seeing each other for the first time since the rescue; as if the previous evening in the infirmary hadn't happened.

Ztar sat at the foot of the bed, watching the two. So much to deal with in the coming days and weeks. And right in the middle of the biggest Imperial event Ztar had ever planned. All because some supremacy terror group wanted to disrupt his plans. More investigation would be needed, but Ztar had pulled much information from Drex's mind about the plot, the reasons, and the people involved. The leaks regarding the announcement needed to be found – they were likely right in the palace.

The radical group wanted to make a point that moving to a more democratic government was the wrong direction for the Empire. They had hoped to force Ztar to recant the formation of a new constitution. Barring that, he had planned to least make Ztar question or postpone his decision. It had been the first of many plans the terrorists had envisioned to disrupt the change in government.

But while the terrorist knew of Ztar's telepathic prowess, they hadn't known about his strong empathic abilities, especially where Archangel and Sukja were concerned. Thus they hadn't believed they would be found, at least not so quickly. Ztar had long ago decided to keep some of his abilities close to his chest, and it had paid dividends with this single incident.

An afterthought to the kidnapping was Drex's desire to inflict an emotional wound in the Emperor, and what better way than through raping and torturing someone Ztar loved. Drex's choice of Archangel came from his disdain that Ztar had named Archangel to the royal court. That smacked retroist of the type Rja associated with outside the palace. That possible connection needed to be resolved quickly. Lar and MI were already working on whether or not the housemaster had any knowledge of the plot. Another name had already surfaced from Ztar's palace staff – Tarric. A possible terrorist connection there to be investigated. Both staff members were in custody in the palace brig.

As Ztar watched Sukja and Archangel embrace, a surprising sense of peace came over him, in spite of what they'd all just been through. In that moment, he felt his life was complete. Sukja, an old and dear friend and mentor, who had loved and believed in him despite all of the wrongs Ztar had committed over the years. That faith had slowly, methodically led him to be the man he had now become.

Archangel had reawakened parts of Ztar that were long ago repressed and nearly forgotten – the caring, loving, gentle parts. While Sukja had guided and molded his mind, Archangel was saving his soul.

Ztar smiled warmly at the two men. They looked back at him with questioning eyes.

"I love you both," he said, his heart full, but in incredible pain.

###


	8. Chapter 8

_There's little time for rest after the kidnapping with everything going on. How does our trio handle the big event? And then as the shock wears off, the emotional toll begins to emerge._

_Post a review and let me know your thoughts. _

**Chapter Eight**

"Absolutely not!" Sukja exclaimed. Archangel shook his head in agreement with Sukja.

"But it will be too much for either of you. I won't allow it!" Ztar said in shock. He had just told both men they were excused from their duties until further notice, including attending the reception, and had thought they'd be grateful.

"My Emperor, I for one can handle it. I know this. It will be a good distraction; something to focus on other than what happened. And at the reception, if I find it becomes too much, I'll simply slip away."

"Likewise for me, Ztar. Take advantage of the shock we're both in – it will get us through the next couple days. We need to show strength to whomever else might be watching, hoping we've been wounded by this. It is our Imperial duty – we mustn't show weakness," Warren added with conviction.

Ztar looked back and forth between his attendant and his companion. He was simultaneously baffled and proud. Such strength and determination! Again, Archangel showed his pragmatic side in his suggestion to use shock to their advantage and Sukja's loyalty to duty always impressed. But attending the reception and playing host to hundreds would be expecting too much.

"Imperial duty be damned! You both need to rest. You may be feel strong enough at the moment, but it will be overwhelming. No, I cannot permit it." Ztar was firm.

"My Emperor, please trust us. If we feel overwhelmed, we will rest. Allow us to perform our duty. If we don't, I for one will always regret it. The reception is too important to miss."

"Listen to Sukja. We need to be there," Warren added. Then he put a scowl on his face. "I've worked too fucking hard on your little party to not see the results."

Ztar nearly smiled at that and contemplated, looking at his two determined staff members. He could continue to fight with the two men or he could allow them to do as they were demanding – complete their duties and attend the reception. He backed off.

"Very well. It's against my better judgment, but I'll relent. You must promise me that if you feel overwhelmed, you will leave the reception and inform me immediately. And I reserve the right to order you to your chambers if you do not."

Sukja and Archangel agreed to the terms.

The balance of the day before the reception was spent keeping busy with last minute double-checking of arrangements and details. It was as Sukja and Archangel said – a good distraction. Shock kept the worst of the aftermath at bay, while busied minds and drugs did the rest.

That night, stronger drugs from Ztar's physician helped Archangel and Sukja get the sleep they needed without dreams. Ztar refused medications as he wanted to be sensitive to any emotional crisis either man might experience during the night should the drugs fail. But dreams tormented him each time he fell asleep as he struggled with guilt and anguish.

###

Morning of the reception dawned bright and cloudless. It also threatened to be quite warm. Warren tried to shake off the effects of the sedative he had taken the night before. It must have been quite strong to have kept him asleep for so long. According to the sun, it was already mid-morning.

He had no real desire for a morning flight, but he needed something to busy his mind immediately. As soon as he rose, memories of the hours in the hands of his kidnappers started to push their way into his thoughts. As quickly as he could, he was showered and dressed and seeking out Sukja for whatever tasks still needed to be completed.

As Warren headed to Sukja's office, the palace was alive with activity. Most of the honored guests had either already arrived or were scheduled to arrive before mid-day. Those that arrived yesterday and early that morning were settled into their accommodations in the guest wing of the palace. Ztar personally greeted each upon their morning arrival, charming his way through the high ranking dignitaries and their spouses or other companions.

When Warren found Sukja, he was absorbed in last minute details with security and logistics of getting 500 guests moved through traffic, both in the air and on the ground. Private shuttles would not be the norm as it had been for the honored guests staying at the palace. Larger ferrying shuttles would bring guests from several gathering points both on Sat'rey and in ships orbiting the planet.

He and Sukja split up the balance of tasks to be wrapped by mid-afternoon. Both men found themselves too busy to dwell on the events of two days ago.

###

Warren stood transfixed in the doorway of his balcony as he watched ferrying shuttles arrive. It was a perfect summer early evening. The palace and grounds glowed majestically. People looked excited and happy as they stepped out of the shuttles. Everyone was obviously dressed in their finest. The variety of clothing styles was extraordinary, as was the mix of species. These were the upper echelon and power players of the Empire in all their glory.

As fascinated as Warren was with the scene below, he was already tired from resolving small emergencies, one last meeting with heads of palace staff, and juggling the problems associated with Rja being in the brig. To her credit, she was directing her staff from that location. Never let it be said that she was derelict in her duties, she had announced with stubborn pride. Warren felt that although Rja did not care for him in the least, he didn't believe she was involved in the kidnapping – it just didn't fit with what he had learned of the housemaster.

He observed from aloft as the arriving guests were greeted by Ztar's inner circle, Sukja, and Ztar himself. Ztar had insisted that Warren not participate in this portion of the evening's activities. He saw how tired Warren already was and the evening would be long enough.

"Save your strength," he had ordered Warren. "I will come for you when the time is right."

And so Warren waited in his chambers, not really able to rest as Ztar had suggested. His nerves were wound too tight. The pills from Ztar's physician only took the edge off his emotional swings and threatening memories, but anything stronger and he feared he'd not be fit to attend the reception at all. And he did want to attend – he had worked too hard this past month to not do so.

As he had gotten ready for the big event, Warren studied himself in the mirror. Despite his body's ability to heal, he looked haggard at best. And not only were the wings scruffy from the molt, but no amount of preening could eliminate all the damage the feathers suffered while Drex and his men… The rest of the thought he had pushed down with force. 'You'll be making some kind of impression tonight,' he had told himself grimly.

Ztar had downplayed the fact that this was also Warren's debut as the newest member of Imperial staff, but Warren knew it was the case. How many people knew Warren was also Ztar's companion, he did not know. He tried not to think about that too much. His nerves were already shot and he didn't need to add to that with concerns about what people were thinking of him. This was Ztar's night – his moment in history. That was all that mattered this perfect Sat'rey summer night.

As dusk fell, the shuttles came less frequently. Sounds of talking and laughing filled Warren's chambers from the patio and gardens below. He sat quietly listening, content just to let the sounds of the event float up to him as he waited in his sitting area, eyes closed.

The chime startled him. Ztar smiled warmly when Warren opened the door.

"You still wish to do this?" the Emperor asked. "You have nothing to prove. You can remain in your chambers."

Warren nodded his head. "I want to see it through. If I don't, I will regret it. I need to do this."

Ztar's eyes glistened with unshed tears. How strong and courageous this human was – a true warrior in every sense of the word.

"Then our guests await."

As the two walked together down the hall toward the sounds flooding the palace from the grand reception hall, Ztar stole a look at Archangel. He was incredibly beautiful tonight. The clothing designed just for this event highlighted every perfect feature of the human. It called attention to the blueness of his eyes, the gold of his hair, the magnificence of his white wings, the sleekness of his toned body. Ztar doubted anyone would be able to take their eyes off the unique being – at least not anyone with aesthetic tastes even close to the Emperor's.

Several of the guests had migrated to the entresol stretching across the end of the reception hall and they were the first Ztar and Archangel encountered on their way; among them were General Gtar-Cro and his spouse. Ztar knew the General liked the high-ground vantage point and it wasn't a surprise that's where he had stationed himself.

"General!" Ztar called out and Gtar-Cro excused himself from the small group he was entertaining and moved to join Ztar and Archangel.

"My Emperor! I wondered where you had gone." Then turning toward Archangel, "Glad you were able to join us tonight, Archangel. I had thought perhaps both you and Sukja may have abstained under the circumstances."

Warren shot a quick look to Ztar. How much did the General know?

'He knows most, but not all of what happened,' Ztar telepathed to Warren. The feeling that went with the message was that Gtar-Cro did not know what Warren had endured with Drex's men. He was grateful for that and Warren felt he could face the head of MI with at least some dignity.

"I would not have missed this, General. Tonight is far too important than to let terrorists spoil it."

"Well said!" the General replied. The human was tougher than he looked, Gtar-Cro concluded.

After brief introductions to Gtar-Cro's spouse and the others in the small circle the General had been conversing with, Ztar excused them and he and Warren started down the steps to the main floor. Warren could feel many eyes lock on him and Ztar. A panic washed over him and he had to fight hard to push it down. That alone drove home how emotionally fragile he was.

'Easy, flyboy! You've done this before – it's just like a big party on Earth. You're use to this; use to people looking at you,' he reassured himself, trying to get a handle on the emotion. He caught Ztar's quick glance in his direction. The Emperor was likely picking up on his feelings.

'Do you need my assistance?' Ztar slid the question into Warren's mind.

'I'll be fine, Ztar. I just need a few more seconds.' Warren breathed deeply and exhaled slowly as they descended the long staircase.

People turned as the pair made their way down. Warren caught the word 'Esserru' a couple times from somewhere in the crowd below. He pushed it out of his mind and focused on not missing a step as they descended.

Ztar was reading the room. Many of the guests were making the association with the ancient legend of the Esserru. Warren's appearance was taking most by surprise and many were in awe. Others did not know of the Turzent mythical creatures called the Esserru, but had winged beings in their own legends. A smaller number weren't taken with Archangel's appearance at all, except that he was a species they hadn't encountered.

Warren was never so glad as when he hit the ground floor. The room had quieted significantly as he and Ztar had descended the stairs. Now that the "show" was over, the guests returned to their conversations, drink, and food.

'Better?' Ztar asked mentally.

'I think I need a drink!' Warren sent.

Ztar chuckled and he telepathed the nearest drink server for two Dison, which were promptly delivered.

Warren felt better now that he had something in his hand to hold on to. Working the crowd with Ztar, they greeted and made small talk for a long time. It seemed many people wanted to not only speak with Ztar, but meet his newest staff member. Warren repeatedly answered questions about Earth. He felt the need to explain that 'No, not everyone on Earth looked like him…It's difficult to explain…' when the conversation would turn to how different life would be on a planet filled with beings that could fly. Usually, when he and Ztar moved on, the guest was even more confused about him and the far away planet called Earth, but Warren wasn't up to repeated explanations of Earth's diverse mutant population.

Off to one side, Warren finally caught sight of Sukja. As Warren observed, the Ozjaerian seemed in his element, laughing and talking effortlessly with everyone. That had been Warren back on Earth. Easily moving from guest to guest, conversation to conversation – always leaving the conversants wanting him to stay just a little longer. He had learned the skill well. But tonight, he couldn't get into that stride. Not that he didn't do well; but it was forced, not natural. After just a couple hours, he was exhausted and the night had scarcely begun.

Ztar sensed the fatigue. 'Archangel, you need to slip away. Remember your promise.'

'I just need to push through this, it will pass,' Warren insisted.

Ztar doubted that would be the case, but for the moment he would allow Archangel to remain at the reception. However, he would step in if he sensed any greater fatigue or emotional difficulty.

Warren was amazed at the variety of species represented at the reception. The grand hall was alive with people of all different colors, stature, features, and manners. Thankfully, he had thought to reactivate the translators embedded in his ears for the event. So many different languages were being spoken, not just the official language of the Empire. Warren loved the diversity and drew from the energy it created to continue his duties.

During the course of the first couple hours, Warren was formally introduced to Ztar's inner circle, all his key liaisons, top Sat'rey dignitaries, representatives from the Turzent Empire's charter planets, and so many others that Warren would never remember their names, let alone their affiliations.

When Warren next saw Sukja, he was outside on the patio with Atichi and Niat.

"Go!" Ztar said with a smile.

Warren made his way to the patio to join the trio.

"Archangel!" Atichi exclaimed and held out her hands.

Warren took the Ozjaerian's hands in his and she squeezed his warmly.

"You look radiant tonight, Atichi!" Warren said. She did.

"Niat, good to see you again," Warren said to the food procurer.

"Archangel, the honor is mine!" Niat replied with a huge smile.

"How are you, my friend?" Atichi inquired, concern filling her voice and face.

Warren glanced at Sukja. Did she know what happened two days ago? Sukja gave a very slight affirmative nod.

"We're recovering," Warren said noncommittally.

"You both should take some time off," Atichi offered her advise. "Come to Yaunra. Spend some time doing nothing and let me pamper and wait on you."

"She's right. It would do you both good," Niat chimed in.

Sukja raised his hand. "Enough of things past. Tonight we are here to celebrate peace and new beginnings."

"So we are!" Niat said happily. "I think we need more drink with which to celebrate," and he flagged down a nearby server.

The foursome talked easily for some time, laughing and enjoying each other's company as the conversation flowed. Warren's steadiness grew and his fatigue ebbed as he spent time with new friends. And for a while, the kidnapping was left behind.

"May I join this happy group?" a familiar voice broke in.

"My Emperor!" Niat greeted, stepping back to allow room for Ztar's large presence in their closed circle.

"It appears this is the place to be – so much laughing!" Ztar chuckled.

"Atichi was sharing her stories about certain shop regulars. Apparently, there is quite a number of interesting characters that live in the neighborhood," Warren explained. "Atichi seems to collect eccentric people."

Atichi's laughter twinkled and she waved her hand. "They just seem to latch onto me! But I do enjoy the variety in my neighbors. Each has their own specialness."

"That's one way of putting it!" Niat laughed heartily.

"Atichi, you've always taken in the lost and wandering souls. It's just what you do," Sukja added.

"Perhaps with no children of my own, it's my way of being a mother," she smiled sweetly, directly at Warren.

"As much as I'd like to stay and talk, I must move along. More guests to attend to. Sadly, I must pulled Archangel away as well," Ztar said apologetically.

Once Ztar and Warren had left the group, Ztar spoke quietly. "I'm going to make my announcement in just a short while. Any last minute thoughts?"

Warren studied the Emperor for a moment. He actually seemed nervous. Warren had earlier reviewed Ztar's announcement and found nothing he would change. "The speech is a good one. Just speak it from the heart."

How was it that Archangel could so easily see what was important? The words _were_ good, that Ztar knew. But if he didn't speak them "from the heart," even the best words would fall flat.

Ztar and Warren made a few more stops to talk with some of the honored guests that had gathered around the base of the stairs. Ztar intended to make his brief announcement from the center of the stairway. Not too high up, but high enough that everyone could see him. It was just one of the minute details that Sukja had worked out. A symbolic gesture reflecting the new role Ztar was planning for himself.

Ztar gathered himself and placed a hand on Archangel's arm. "It's time." Warren saw him take a deep breath in preparation for what would be likely the most important speech of his life.

A chime sounded and the guests started gathering in the grand reception hall from the gardens, patios, and elsewhere. The inner circle had strategically placed themselves around the room and palace grounds to guide the guests toward the stairs. Gtar-Cro suggested to those on the entresol to descend to the main floor.

Ztar waited as the 500+ guests filled the room in anticipation of a speech by their Emperor. His inner circle made their way to the foot of the steps signaling all were ready. Ztar locked eyes with Archangel and smiled.

"Good luck, Ztar," Warren said quietly. Ztar turned and climbed the steps.

Warren made his way quickly through the crowd in the direction he had watched Sukja head earlier. For a few moments he thought he might not find the Ozjaerian in time, but to his relief he spied Sukja against the wall to the side of the stairway and joined him. The spot provided a good vantage point to observe the crowd and still see the Emperor.

"Glad you found me," Sukja greeted Warren quietly, just as the crowd hushed when the Turzent Emperor raised his hand for quiet.

Warren would expect no clapping during the speech. He had asked Sukja whether that was a custom beyond Earth. Sukja had explained that in Turzent culture, great respect was paid to a speaker by remaining silent during a speech.

"Greetings and thank you for coming to this celebration of New Beginnings for our Empire! We have gathered together this night to share in the joy of peace reclaimed and to pay homage to those who fought with courage and to honor those who lost their lives defending our worlds, our homes, and our loved ones. From their sacrifice, we have regained our future."

"In the months since the treaty was signed, I have looked carefully to that future. Questions pressed at me. How do we want history to record this time after our fight? What did we do with the opportunity for a new beginning? What did we learn? What destiny did our Empire pursue?"

Ztar paused to allow the crowd to contemplate those very questions themselves.

"I look out at you and see the many different races from all corners of our Empire. Each of you represents what gives us our strength – it is our diversity. That diversity provided the talents to wage a successful war. And war unified us as we hadn't been before – all star systems working together for a common goal. You amazed me with your courage and determination. I never felt so honored to be your Emperor." Again Ztar paused. He let his pride flow out to the crowd, wanting them to share in that feeling. The crowd seemed to physically swell.

"In my reflections on our future, I thought back to that unity and to that diversity and the incredible strength those two seeming opposing traits gave us. Unified diversity. Each of us using our uniqueness for the common good. That was powerful!" Ztar paused for emphasis.

"Then the questions came again. Can we sustain that power beyond the environment of war? Will our unified diversity hold? Will we continue toward a common future? Likely not." Ztar stopped and waited. The crowd drew in its breath. What was Ztar saying? They had been with him up until then, feeling good about themselves and their empire.

"Likely not with the Empire in its current state," and Ztar paused again. Another wave of questioning feelings and looks ran through the guests.

"The opportunity given us by those that gave their lives must not be wasted by those of us that survived. It would lessen their sacrifice. Therefore, I've made a decision that the Empire cannot continue as it has."

The crowd gasped in a collective inhale.

"Our current form of government holds us back. It does not embrace diversity. It does not encourage willing membership. It does not stir our citizens to seek a common future. It does not foster true loyalty and commitment. It gives our people a lessened voice. No compelling reason after war to remain unified."

The crowd was transfixed on their Emperor. This was not at all what they had been expecting to hear. As Ztar spoke, Warren glanced around the room. He watched the faces and body stances of the guests in an attempt to read their reaction to Ztar's words. Perplexed best summed up what he saw.

One face suddenly jumped to clarity – it was a face so much like one of J'faird's men, they could have been brothers. Warren's head spun and the sound of the man's remembered voice overrode Ztar's. His body shuddered and he grabbed Sukja's arm when his knees threatened to buckle. 'Damn, not now!' he yelled at himself, fighting to suppress the memory, but then losing the battle.

Sukja immediately knew something was very wrong. From the look on Archangel's face, he was likely having a flashback. If he couldn't pull Archangel out of it quickly, they'd have to remove him from the reception. Sukja put his experience with traumatic shock to use and leaned close. "Archangel, focus on my voice. Just follow my voice."

Warren heard Sukja's distant voice above the man's sadistic words being whispered in his ear.

"You are at the palace and safe. Listen to me, Archangel, and only me. You can do this – it's only a memory. Ztar is speaking, you're in the grand reception, everything is as it should be. Come to my voice!" Sukja quietly but urgently whispered.

Warren's mind fought to determine what was happening. He was confused, disoriented. Two realities pulled at him – which was real and which was illusion? Was he still in his cell? It seemed so, yet not quite right. Then there was Sukja's voice, calm and reassuring. It interrupted the words of the man humiliating and hurting him. Warren wanted to flee – to escape the pain and shame he was being forced to endure. Sukja's voice would be the voice he'd follow even if it was illusion; illusion was better than staying on the pain-filled floor of his cell. And so he followed Sukja's urgings.

Warren reopened his eyes and the room slowly came into focus. He was trembling, sweaty, and gripping Sukja's arm very tightly. The Ozjaerian would likely be left with bruises.

"Are you back with me?" Sukja asked looking deeply into Warren's eyes.

He nodded. "Thanks, Sukja." Warren's voice was shaky and his legs weak, but he felt he could continue to stand with Sukja's support.

The Emperor was still talking and Warren hoped he hadn't missed much. He refocused his whole being on the speech, desperate to stay with that reality. He truly wanted to hear what would change the course of history for the Turzent Empire. Warren's hand still clung to Sukja's arm.

"Together with our Empire's top advisors, a new Imperial constitution has been drafted." The room inhaled again, soft murmurs spread through the crowd, despite the rule to be silent during speeches. Apparently, this was just too big to remain completely quiet.

"We borrowed from several forms of government in its creation, blending the very best attributes from both imperial and democratic governments. Our future will be one of shared responsibility for the welfare of our Empire. Together we will seek our destiny, each world having a voice in defining what that destiny will be. Our new constitution creates the foundation for a unified diversity that is rooted in the strength of our people. Strength from the ground up – guided by the wisdom of our diverse experience. That is where our future lies!" Again the Emperor paused to the let the crowd catch up with him.

"My hope is that historians will record this as the single most important event in our collective history. The moment that we chose to become more than what we are. The moment we truly realized our potential. The moment when we proclaimed that we believed in a common future and took that first step toward it as a unified, _imperiocratic_ Empire."

Ztar stood tall and proud while he watched the faces below him as the meaning of his words sunk in. In some he saw shock. In others, happiness and anticipation. Feelings of disbelief, joy, confusion, realization, all mixed together in a nearly overwhelming whirlwind of emotions. In a very few, he felt betrayal and mistrust, but he did not let that dampen his mood.

Someone in the crowd called out, "To the Empire – may it long prosper!!"

"To the Empire!" a collective cheer erupted.

People began turning to their neighbors and talking excitedly and with much animation. The room quickly filled with hundreds of voices. Ztar's inner circle, which had been waiting at the base of the stairs, climbed to join him on the steps.

"My friends!" Ztar's voice boomed above the crowd, recapturing everyone's attention. "Standing here before you, we are humbled by your response to the dream of a new beginning for all of us. In the coming months, you will be hearing the details of the new constitution, which is in its final writing. Each of you in this grand hall tonight is _critical_ to a successful transition. You will be called upon for your cooperation and assistance. We also ask for your patience as the final details are put to our new constitution in the coming weeks. Much work lies ahead, but the work will be rewarded multifold!"

"To the Empire!" Ztar's inner circle called out in unison.

"To the Empire!" the crowd replied with enthusiasm.

Ztar was overcome with joy. This was what he was destined to do! It felt so right. The road to this point had been bumpy with many wrong turns and missteps, but he had nearly achieved the goal he hadn't realized he was reaching for until these past months.

Ztar and his inner circle descended the stairs and were immediately swarmed. Warren watched as Ztar and the others basked in the glory of their announcement. He knew he had just been part of history in the making and he felt happiness for the Empire. It indeed was a new beginning. But what of Earth? Warren couldn't help but wonder yet again if it would be a new beginning for him also.

"Sukja, I'm going to my chambers," he said softly. Fatigue had overtaken him swiftly and sadness was creeping in around the edges.

Sukja's face expressed concern.

"I'm fine, Sukja. Just tired."

Sukja didn't believe Archangel for an instant, but said nothing as he watched the human navigate out of the reception hall.

As soon as Warren entered his chambers, he downed two sleep aids and went to bed without bothering with anything but shedding his reception outfit for nightwear. Although he had worried he might not be able to fall asleep, it came almost instantly.

A while later, Sukja caught Ztar's eye and indicated with a nod he was heading upstairs. After checking Archangel's room through the monitor system and seeing the human already sleeping, Sukja climbed into bed himself. It had been a triumphant evening, but a horrifying past couple days. He, too, fell asleep nearly instantly.

###

Archangel's cries echoed in his head. Sukja tried to get up, but he couldn't move. Something or someone was holding down his arms and legs, but he couldn't see anything. Panic rose as the human's cries grew louder, more pain-filled. Sukja struggled desperately to free himself from whatever was restraining him. Several faceless bodies surrounded him, looking down as he lay struggling on the floor. They were laughing. How pathetic his struggles, they said, words coming from faces without mouths. How meaningless his attempts.

More cries from the human – "No! Stop! Please!"

Sukja was nearly out of his mind with fear and desperation.

"Let me up! I must help him!!"

The faceless forms around him only laughed.

"He thinks he can save the human!" And the cruel laughter continued.

"Do you think he knows he's to blame for all this?" another faceless form asked, and more laughter followed.

Suddenly, Sukja was standing and could see what was happening to Archangel. The man raping him was grotesque in form and also had no face. Horror ran through Sukja. He tried to reach Archangel, but an invisible wall prevented that. He pounded on the barrier as the grotesque creature continued to thrust into Archangel with such force that the human was nearly torn from the assaulter's grip. Archangel screamed.

Unable to reach Archangel, Sukja cried and sank to his knees, covering his ears to block the sounds. "No!" he screamed over and over again.

Sukja sat straight up in bed with bloodcurdling "No!" escaping from his lips just as Ztar appeared at his bedside.

"It was just a dream, my friend," Ztar's cooed in a gentle voice in an attempt to reassure as he pulled Sukja close in an embrace. The Ozjaerian was shaking uncontrollably and his breathing ragged from the nightmare. Sukja slowly began to relax in Ztar's arms, as the Emperor blanketed him in soothing sensations. Ztar felt his heart would break over Sukja's distress.

"You're safe, my friend. Archangel is safe."

Sukja pulled away from Ztar, but couldn't look at the Emperor. "I couldn't stop them! I tried to get Archangel to fly away when he could, but I failed! I failed him! I failed you!" he voiced choked, the words coming in gulps.

"You failed no one, my dear friend. Don't think that for a moment. You did everything circumstance permitted you to do. You are _not_ to blame."

Sukja shook his head. "You don't understand. He was free, Ztar! He was in the air – he could have gotten away. But he came down for me. For _me_! Archangel allowed himself to be captured to protect _me_. What he endured is my fault."

"That is his nature, Sukja. Believe me when I say he would have done the same no matter who it was. It is who Archangel is – he could not live with himself if he hadn't done so. If he had left as you asked, would you want him to live with that guilt?"

Sukja swallowed hard, trying to hold back the torrent of tears that threatened. "But he'd be safe!" Sukja argued.

"Maybe physically, but not mentally," Ztar countered.

Sukja wasn't willing to give up his self-blame. "You should have seen him after we crashed. Their first shuttle – six against one and he got them all! He is a warrior, Ztar! But then the second shuttle and they used me to force him…" Sukja shivered at the memory and fought to keep his voice. "He let them rape him to protect me. He could have fought them off. He could have let them hurt me and spared himself. Archangel said he'd protect me, that it was okay. It wasn't! I don't deserve his sacrifice." At that, Sukja lost his battle against the racking sobs.

Ztar held his friend as he released the built-up emotions. He didn't try to soothe or calm Sukja further – he needed the release. Ztar sat for a long time on the edge of the bed, holding the Ozjaerian as he cried, and Ztar wondered – would any of them ever be the same?

###

Warren woke and knew immediately it was late. The sunlight that poured into his room was already at a high angle. He hated sleeping in!

As he rose, his thoughts turned to the reception the night before. Had anything of interest happened after he left? What was the overall consensus on the guests' reaction to the announcement? What next? He knew each guest was given a memory chip of the Emperor's speech and the communications branch of Ztar's government was to broadcast the speech starting this morning. The Empire would be abuzz today! And, as Ztar pointed out, there could be difficulties ahead to deal with.

Full of questions and curiosity, Warren entered the bathroom to start his day. He looked in the mirror.

'God, you look awful!' he told himself.

He wasn't surprised given what he had been through the last three days. And he knew the road ahead would not be easy, as the flashback during Ztar's speech drove home. In fact, Warren knew the worst of the aftermath lie ahead of him. The shock was wearing off, and the diversion the reception provided was over. Soon the full impacts of what he had endured would hit him.

Suddenly, he _had_ to be in the air. Something he hadn't done since before the kidnapping. Still in his nightwear, he leapt from the balcony into the already hot morning air. Honored guests were eating and mingling on the patio below and several gasped and exclaimed as they watched Warren climb into the sky.

Gaining altitude, the air cooled to a more comfortable temperature. The loss of flight feathers was immediately evident in Warren's fine aerial control, but he wasn't planning on any fancy maneuvers this morning. All he wanted was the feel of air moving over his wings and body, to be free. The sensation of a heavy weight had been with him since the kidnapping. It was wearing. Even now in the sky it was with him. Try as he might, he couldn't shake it.

He expanded his awareness as he flew, as he had done countless times, but he couldn't quite reach that euphoria he longed for. That wonderful, all-consuming joy of flight eluded Warren. No matter how he tried, those feelings wouldn't surface. It seemed as though they were denied him by a veil he couldn't penetrate. He swooped and glided, hoping to manifest the joy. Still his spirit denied him. There was no euphoria, no joyous freedom. Nothing but dullness. It was like that part of him was dead. What had the hours in Drex's hands done to him?

'Don't take that from me!' he cried out from his soul. _'Please!' _Tears came and were whipped away by the wind as he flew, searching desperately for the release and freedom. Fear gripped him that he may never find it again. He couldn't bear that!

Then he tried to reach down to the tranquility in mind he had so often sought when life had been unbearable. But just like many days earlier when his avian side was emerging, he couldn't not find it. Nothing came to him but emptiness. _What was happening?_

Sobs began and he brought himself to a hover, unable to fly forward and cry violently at the same time. There he remained, pinned to the sky, while his soul shared its anguish with the heavens. Tears ran down his face and dropped toward the alien world below. The joy of flight gone. Now no refuge to turn to – stolen from him by Drex. He had already lost so much, he could not loose this one last sanctuary that made life bearable. Despair engulfed him. He nearly quit beating his wings. It would be over in moments and the pain gone forever.

A gentle presence slipped into his mind. 'Archangel?'

He couldn't answer; he simply grabbed the presence and held on as if it was a life preserver. Warren really didn't want to die, but…

'Let me help you.'

Warren felt Ztar's presence move through his mind, tenderly breaking through the barriers that trauma had erected. Then Ztar guided him down through the rifts he had created to the tranquil place and to the joyful place. The sensations welled up and flowed through him. Warren let them overtake and consume him. It was bliss!

Tears of grief and fear became tears of relief. The feelings weren't destroyed, just buried beneath the pain and horror, but Ztar had helped Warren find them again.

In Archangel's mind, Ztar embraced him and let his love also pour through the human. Then he left Archangel to enjoy his time in the open sky.

A long time later, Warren landed on his balcony. He felt less heavy than when he had left. The weight wasn't gone, but had lessen at least for now. Perhaps he would survive. With time, perhaps the weight would lift completely and the pain become less intense.

###

Ztar reflected back on the day after the announcement as he prepared for dinner. As soon as Ztar had risen that morning, he was bombarded with communications from across his Empire. Reports ran the spectrum from joyful celebrations erupting out spontaneously on some worlds to the opposite – riots.

The Emperor's government would be greatly pressed the next days and weeks. Maintain peace, encourage positive anticipation of the change, defuse civil unrest, and plead for patience. Ztar was even more grateful of his inner circle and their command – were the very best his Empire offered. Unlike the Emperor, most of them likely did not get any sleep after the reception as news spread very quickly across the Empire. But he had every confidence in his top advisors' abilities to get the Empire through intact over the next critical days and the year ahead. It would be a year of stress, vigilance, and hard work.

Ztar started the morning talking with each of his inner circle to resolve issues that only he as Emperor could decide. Then in the midst of that, he had felt Archangel's despair. Breaking away from a comlink with his military chief of staff, Ztar reached out to find his companion flirting with another plunge from the sky. His heart lurched. Apparently, the trauma was acting as a block to the part of Archangel's psyche where the joy of flight and inner peace lie and he was desperately trying to tap into them to cope.

Thankfully, Ztar knew Archangel's mind well after four years. Those feelings weren't gone. The events of the kidnapping had so traumatized Archangel, his mind couldn't access them – it had pulled into itself in an attempt to block the emotional pain. However, Ztar knew the way and he used his telepathy to guide Archangel past the blocks to those feelings.

Archangel's relief was immediate and overwhelming. With access once again to what the human viewed as his refuge, the immediate crisis was over. Ztar knew there would be more emotional crises ahead for Archangel and Sukja alike. He would do whatever he could to help them through those times.

The diversion of the reception was gone. Now the two men would need to fully face the aftermath of being taken by the terrorists. While Sukja had endured much, it was Archangel that had suffered the most and he was Ztar's greatest concern. He would maintain a vigilant empathic connection with the human for the next weeks until he believed Archangel had healed enough.

The Emperor's contemplations turned to himself. Ztar hoped he had the strength and wisdom to help Sukja and Archangel to heal. But the biggest question was whether Archangel would continue to accept his help. After all, Ztar was responsible for what had happened. If it weren't for his decisions about the governmental change, the terrorists would have not acted. Going even further back, if Archangel was still on Earth, his kidnapping, rapes, and torture would not have occurred.

Bottom line, Ztar was directly and indirectly responsible for the horrors Archangel had endured. If Ztar were Archangel, he wasn't sure he could ever forgive that. The more Ztar went down that line of thinking, the more distressed he became.

'You are to blame for this, mighty Emperor!' Ztar accused himself. 'You cannot deny your guilt.'

###

That night, Warren thought more about what Ztar had done in the sky above the valley that morning. It had been performed with perfection – what a powerful, incredible gift the Emperor had. Warren also acknowledged that Ztar's familiarity with his mind from four years of exploration had been the key to the ease in which Ztar had released what had become unreachable for Warren. What would Warren done if Ztar hadn't interceded at that moment? He shuddered to think. There may have been no last minute halt to the plunge that time.

He recalled the other feeling that the Emperor had sent him – love. Ztar did love him, he allowed himself to believe for perhaps the first time. Yet it was a selfish love; one that still held Warren against his will. Nevertheless, the Turzent had learned to love again. Now if Ztar could learn to love selflessly, there was hope.

###

Warren struggled with bad dreams almost nightly. Despite the sleep aids given him by Ztar's physician, the nightmares still came. Whenever Warren was wakened by a particularly bad one, Ztar was there at his bedside. The empathic link worked even when Ztar slept, rousing him and bringing him to Warren's chambers. By the end of the week following the reception, Ztar looked completely exhausted from the combination of sleep disrupted by Warren's dreams and the stressful days of dealing with the positive and negative aftereffects of his announcement, yet the Emperor never complained.

A powerful dream gripped Archangel once again. It was the second that night, and the Emperor was at Archangel's bedside once again quickly, not having fallen back to sleep after the first. Ztar's physician said it was wisest to let the dreams play out as they are the subconscious' attempt to deal with the trauma. He advised Ztar to intercede only if Archangel became overly distressed. Thus, the Emperor sat silently on the edge of Archangel's bed and monitored telepathically as the human dreamed his nightmares.

This particular dream was a mix of the horrors of the rapes by Drex's men and Ztar, much to the Emperor's own distress. The brutality at the hands of the terrorists seemed to have dredged up the emotional trauma of Archangel's early time with Ztar. As Ztar telepathically watched the nightmare, it drove home the level of trauma he had inflicted on Archangel, something that the human had mostly repressed for four years.

In Warren's dream, Ztar and several men in the uniforms of the terrorists were in a circle around Warren on the Mi-Lartui. Near crippling fear gripped him, but there was no where to escape. He was trapped.

"The Emperor's plaything is going to entertain us now!" a male voice said enthusiastically.

One of the men approached Warren from behind and ran his hands down the wings held protectively tight to his body. "These are going to be fun to explore!"

As Warren pulled away, Ztar shoved him backward toward the man that had groped his wings. As that man grabbed and held Warren from behind, the Emperor approached and brought a hand behind his head in a tight hold.

"You are mine to do with as I please," Ztar said with a sickening grin. "My little plaything will be busy tonight!"

A crushing kiss followed from Ztar and the man behind him pushed his fingers between and through feathers. Warren was frozen, unable to fight, although he wanted to. His body would not obey.

"Stop! You're hurting me!" In the world of the dream, Warren cried out even though Ztar's mouth still covered his.

Ztar's heart and soul broke with the cry to stop that escaped Archangel's lips even through sleep. A tear slid down the Emperor's face as he watched the dreaming human. He wanted to stop the dream, but as difficult as it was to watch, he did not.

In the dream, the only response was a chorus of laughter from the others surrounding Ztar, Warren, and the man holding him.

"That's the whole point!" a voice said. "Why do you think you're here?"

"Relax and _enjoy_ it, human!" another taunted.

"It's what your body was meant for – for us to enjoy!" the man holding him cooed in Warren's ear. "And we're going to enjoy everything square inch of it!"

Warren's fear ran like ice through his veins, but he was helpless.

Ztar's hands ran harshly over Warren's body as his lust-filled eyes took him in. The man holding him from behind pulled Warren to the floor. Ztar squatted down in front of Warren and smiled.

"You cannot fight me. Lie still and let me have you!"

Warren stifled a cry as the man behind him released his hold and Ztar climbed on top of him.

"No, please!" he begged the Emperor, but it didn't stop Ztar's mouth from savagely taking in his.

Suddenly, Warren was again on the floor of his cell, but it was Ztar who was hurting him, not Drex or one of his men. Warren was pinned in the corner on his knees with the Emperor behind his naked body.

"No more, please!" Warren begged Ztar.

"We're done when I say we're done, and we're far from done!" as Ztar continued to thrust himself in and out of Warren and Warren cried.

"This ends now!" a voice boomed from a doorway. It was Ztar's voice. Warren turned to see the very tall figure of the Emperor entering the cell. He grabbed the man on top of Warren, who was also Ztar and threw him into the wall with lethal force. The first Emperor's body slid down the wall, dead.

The second Ztar walked to Warren and knelt beside him, taking him into his arms. Warren felt safe and protected. He had been rescued. All the people that hurt him were gone. In his dream, Warren knew this Ztar had killed them. The scene morphed to become the palace grounds and they were kneeling in the grass.

Moit'de and Sukja were there, watching Ztar and Warren. Sukja was smiling, but the gardener was not.

"Bad soil!" the gardener commented grimly.

Warren looked at Ztar and was confused. This wasn't right! Ztar was not a friend!

"He hurt me! I remember!" he yelled at the gardener and Sukja. Warren shoved the accused away from him. "Keep him away from me!" He jumped to his feet and looked down at Ztar.

"I saved you! Don't you remember?" Ztar asked desperately from the ground.

Warren now stood over Ztar who was still kneeling on the ground. He was very angry.

"You raped me. I remember! I said stop and you didn't. I remember! You kept me prisoner. I remember! I was your outlet. I remember!" Warren loomed over Ztar in rage.

Outside the dream, Ztar's heart sank. It was all true! He wanted to wake Archangel, but feared the result. "Let it play out," the physician's words rang in his head – the traumas need to be resolved.

"I _hate_ you!!" Feathers became blades as Warren morphed into Apocalypse's blue-skinned Archangel. He flicked his wings releasing razor-sharp feathers that sliced through the Emperor's flesh. Blood spurted as Ztar screamed in agony.

"Good! Now you know how much it hurt!" Archangel vengefully raged, letting loose with another barrage of feather blades and Ztar screamed more. The ground ran red with blood and Ztar crumbled.

As Ztar monitored the dream, he could almost feel the blades slice through his dream counterpart. Guilt and shame enveloped him as he watched Archangel's subconscious perform the symbolic play.

"You killed him!" Sukja and the gardener yelled in unison.

Steel-winged Archangel looked down at his blood-soaked victim and was suddenly overcome by remorse.

"No! I couldn't have. I didn't _mean_ to!" Archangel was horrified.

"He _loved_ you, and you killed him!" the gardener pointed an accusing finger.

"He said loved me. I remember. He changed, didn't he?" It was Warren once again that knelt next to the bloody figure on the ground; Apocalypse's creation was gone.

"Yes, and you still killed him!" Sukja and Moit'de stood menacingly near Warren.

"I can save him! Please, let me save him!" Warren asked the gardener and Sukja.

"Save him if you can, human!" Sukja voice was laced with unspoken threats.

Warren picked up a feather blade from the ground and cut his own wrist lengthwise. He placed his wrist over one large wound on the Emperor's still body, letting his blood flow into the Emperor.

Dizziness and nausea came as his blood flowed faster and faster into the Emperor without stopping. "Too much – he needs too much!" Warren said weakly.

"You cannot stop. He needs more!" And the gardener and Sukja held Warren's arm to the Emperor's body. "You will save him," they commanded.

"I don't have enough – it's too late!" Warren tried to pull away, but the gardener and Sukja held firm. Warren was close to blacking out in his dream.

"He needs more!" the gardener said.

"I have no more to give," Warren was nearly drained and the world darkened around him.

At the last possible moment, Ztar stirred. His wounds healed at an amazing speed before their eyes. Ztar sat up. Warren collapsed and Ztar caught him in his arms, drawing him close.

"My beloved!" Ztar cradled Warren, rocking gently back and forth.

Warren again felt safe and protected. "You are healed?" he asked in a faint voice.

"Yes, I am healed. You did that. I remember!" Ztar of the dream was crying.

Sukja and Moit'de smiled down at the pair. "You saved him," they stated in unison.

"Good soil!" the gardener smiled.

Warren touched Ztar's face to wipe away the tears. It was something Warren did both in the dream and in reality. At some point, Warren's subconscious registered Ztar's presence next to him on the bed. Ztar of reality took Warren's hand into his.

In the dream, Ztar looked at Warren with a smile. Both men were now standing in an open meadow back on Earth. Ztar looked strong and whole and happy. He was truly healed.

"You can go now! I'm healed and you are free!" and Ztar let Warren go.

Warren looked to the sky – so blue, so beautiful! His skies! His home! He was filled with joy as he leapt into that welcoming expanse without looking back.

At Archangel's bedside, Ztar's tears came again. The dream Ztar was so much stronger than he was in reality. Life without Archangel was too difficult to contemplate. Yet it was what Archangel longed for.

Warren's eyes fluttered open to see Ztar's face above his. He was still half in the dream state. Flashes of the most vivid parts of the dream replayed in his mind – Ztar rescuing him and killing the old Ztar; Warren's anger nearly killing the Emperor and then saving him, Ztar letting him go in the beautiful meadow on Earth.

"I saved you?" Warren asked in a whisper, only partially awake.

"Yes, my Archangel, you saved me. You healed my soul. I remember," Ztar said echoing the words in the dream. He was still holding Archangel's hand.

Sleep wanted to take over again and Warren struggled in his half-awake state to determine what was real and what was dream.

"Ztar?"

"I am here," and Ztar kissed Archangel on the forehead. "Go back to sleep now."

As Warren drifted off, one thought lingered – there was hope in saving Ztar.

###

_Author's note: I hope to continue posting chapters at a faster pace now. The bulk of the editing on future chapters is complete. Please do post any suggestions or thoughts you have. I'll continue to take those into account in the final editing. Thanks, again, to my two faithful reviewers – keep your feedback coming!_


	9. Chapter 9

_Okay, everyone, here's a chapter that actually spans several weeks. My usual 'let's explore every facet of the emotional turmoil' modus operandi didn't seem to want to play out here for the time immediately following Ztar's grand reception. Perhaps because it's not so much what the characters go through internally, but the external reflection of progress that is most important at this point in the story. I hope you all agree with that decision. _

**Chapter Nine**

How does one describe emotional hell? Debilitating, agonizing, numbing, and relentless barely conveyed the first few days after the reception when all he had been through finally hit home. And from the looks of Sukja those days, it was likewise for him. Drugs only went so far. Warren did take them even though he didn't like to, but only when things were at their worst.

Warren had experienced torture before and, of course, had survived Apocalypse, but with Drex and his men it had been so much worse. It was almost worst than the early days with Ztar. With him, Warren's pain and suffering was merely a byproduct of Ztar's desire to satisfy his needs. With Drex it was so…personal. What the terrorist inflicted was not used to gain anything, but to punish. And that punishment was directed at both Warren and Ztar.

Those first days, Warren did little. He slept a lot during the day using sleep aids from Vozeipar'de, and then walked the halls at night when everyone was asleep. While palace staff knew Sukja and he had been kidnapped, only Lar and a few of his guards knew that torture was involved. If Warren didn't see palace staff, he didn't have to pretend everything was all right. The hours he did spend awake during the day, he remained mostly in his chambers.

Sukja would come and sit with him, sometimes they talked, other times they didn't. Sometimes only the Ozjaerian spoke, and Warren just listened. Warren felt Sukja's pain was nearly as bad as his own. Witnessed torture can have nearly the same impacts as being tortured, especially when there is an emotional connection with the actual victim. And so they shared their pain, sometimes without words at all.

And then there was the Emperor. His distress was clearly evident. His eyes were haunted and he seemed to bounce back and forth between rage and anguish. Ztar could not abstain from his duties as he insisted Warren and Sukja do. He had to continue working – the Empire didn't come to a standstill because of what happened. It demanded his attention and his time. Perhaps all the activity in the wake of his announcement helped to distract the Emperor, or perhaps it made it more difficult. Warren didn't know.

As the days went by, Ztar was always there for Sukja and Warren alike. When the nightmares defied the drugs, he sat on the edge of their bed. When a flashback engulfed Warren, the Emperor was there within moments. Warren and Sukja both explained it wasn't necessary, but the Emperor insisted. It was what the Emperor needed to do. It was all he could do. He would not be dissuaded.

Two-plus weeks after the incident, Warren looked back at how far they had all come. The blackness of the first days was behind them. The grayness that followed lingered, yet seemed to be lightening. The road ahead was still long and he knew it would be filled with bad days, but perhaps a few okay hours were beginning to creep in. All three men looked like the hell they were struggling through.

With his recovering slowing advancing, Warren's days began to feel empty and without purpose. 'Need to start living again,' he told himself. 'Working would be a good start.' And so he began meeting again with the heads of staff and gradually took back his duties that had been temporarily reassigned to them. Rja, though, was still in the brig awaiting word from General Gtar-Cro on whether or not she could be released.

Warren quickly found that despite taking back his previous duties, without the added work of the reception, many empty hours remained in his days. Time on his hands was not a good thing, he concluded. Something needed to be done to fill it and keep the undesired at bay.

###

While the Turzent, the Ozjaerian, and the Human continued to deal as best they could with the aftermath of the kidnapping, Gtar-Cro and his people investigated around the clock. A little over three weeks after the kidnapping when the General was certain they had learned enough, he came to the palace to report in person.

Ztar sat back in his office chair and contemplated the highlights of the investigation General Gtar-Cro had just shared. "You believe this was not part of a wider plot, then."

"Correct. Our investigation collaborates what you pulled from the terrorists' minds. They were acting independently of any larger organization. They had hoped their actions would spur like-minded groups to join their cause, but as yet we can find no specific evidence indicating direct links to other supremacy groups, or any other terrorist organizations for that matter."

"You've interrogated the other known groups, I assume." He already knew that would be the case, yet still posed the question.

"Of course. As we have expected from the earliest talks, there are those who oppose the transition. MI has and will continue to infiltrate and gather as much intelligence as possible to keep track of these groups. Drex's group unfortunately proved we don't know where all our enemies lie. In hindsight, it is likely because Drex remained unassociated with other known organizations that he eluded detection."

That idea bothered Ztar. If Drex found their blind spot, would others?

"And the one that sabotaged Sukja's shuttle?"

"A temporary replacement through the agency Lar has used for years to find the best maintenance technicians available. She passed all the background and other checks when Lar brought her in. The woman was subconsciously programmed to rig the shuttle and was completely unaware that she was being used. Even our telepaths had a hard time uncovering the planted commands. It appears she was briefly abducted, programmed, and then released to come here."

"You're talking about some impressive mind control techniques. Telepaths?"

Gtar-Cro nodded. "It appears so. Traditional mental control techniques leave a particular imprint on the victim's mind that a skilled telepath can quickly uncover. What we found in the woman was definitely telepathic in origin – much too sophisticated not to be."

"There was no telepath at Drex's compound. Where did this person go?"

"That is a dead end. We learned from Drex that he hired the telepath through underground connections, he did his work, got paid, and left. No one can recall his face and names were never exchanged."

"So you're looking for a nameless, faceless telepath that hires himself out to terrorist?!"

Gtar-Cro took a swig of water from the slender canteen he always carried with him before answering. "Actually, we're not even sure it's a male. That's what Drex remembers, but we're dealing with a powerful telepath."

"We need to find this person."

"My Emperor, if we could we would, that you know. Every lead we've followed, and we've followed them all, has ended the same. As hard it is for me to accept, we've lost that trail, for now at least. Other investigations may turn him or her up again."

Ztar let the issue go for the time being. "The replacement was here for what reason and how was the shuttle disabled?"

"As you know, we found your own technician dead. He had been poisoned with a slow-acting agent and had truly been ill when he commed in to say that he was taking a couple days off. With so much shuttle activity to happen during the grand reception, shuttle maintenance had requested a replacement from Yaunra and Lar complied. The shuttle was rigged with a receiver to divert shield energy directly into the atmospheric propulsion drive. When the signal was received from the terrorist's shuttle, the result was an explosion." Gtar-Cro shook his head. "Lar hasn't taken the news of that security breach well at all, though I explained there was nothing for him to find on the replacement – clean background."

"I will speak with him. Their plan had many loopholes and potential failure points. Are you certain there are no others that have been programmed? Maybe even members of palace staff?"

"Everyone has been scanned and we found nothing."

"And your telepathic interrogators found no other backup plans in Drex's mind?"

"Other than shooting Sukja's shuttle out of the sky if necessary, no."

Ztar didn't like the answers he was getting. It wasn't good strategy on Drex's part. Something just didn't add up. "Indulge your Emperor and keep digging more on that issue and our enigmatic telepath. My instincts tell me we're missing something."

"Yes, my Emperor."

"Rja and Tarric? Still nothing more than I found?" the Emperor asked.

"Nothing. Just unwitting sources of information, guilty only of being manipulated into believing they had found friends with similar beliefs in the old traditions. To her credit, Rja appears to have maintained confidentially where it mattered. Tarric on the other hand, revealed things he should not have. Hence, Lar dismissed him. Tarric is on our watch list. Rja seems to have learned her lesson," Gtar-Cro said with a small smile. "She is very loyal to you, Emperor. Misguided in her opinions at times, but loyal."

The ruler nodded in agreement. A private talk with his housemaster may be in order before she was released. "I found that same truth in her mind. So the investigation has concluded?"

"For the most part. We'll keep pursuing the areas you are concerned about, but overall I feel there is nothing left of significance to uncover elsewhere in this case. My liaison will keep you apprised of this and other ongoing investigations as usual."

"These are treacherous times, my old friend. We need to be vigilant." Ztar said it knowing he was actually echoing Gtar-Cro's own warning from weeks ago.

The General nodded his head in agreement. "As always, my Emperor." Then Gtar-Cro shifted in his chair, a non-verbal signal Ztar had learned years ago meant he was going to ask Ztar an uncomfortable question.

"About what happened while Drex held Sukja and Archangel. I had to learn that from our prisoners as you did not share the information with me. May I ask why?"

"It wasn't pertinent to the immediate investigation. I knew your people would get that from Drex soon enough. Archangel was under enough duress without feeling everyone knew what he'd been through. I wanted to be able to tell him truthfully that I had not shared that with anyone else, for a couple days at least."

"But he'd presume MI would learn of that quickly since we did take Drex and a couple others alive."

"True, but until then I could say you didn't know. For first few days he needed to feel safe and unexposed, so I gave him that." Ztar leaned onto his desk to look Gtar-Cro in the eyes. "General, I do not lie to Archangel. I have never lied to him. I did not share the details of the rapes and torture with you so I could honestly tell Archangel I had not. As it happened, he asked that very question the night of the reception when we greeted you on the entresol. His relief was almost tangible, a feeling that he retained dignity in your eyes."

Gtar-Cro gazed back at his emperor with respect. "Then you acted wisely on his behalf. I hadn't considered it from his viewpoint. Sometimes my drive to get to all the details blinds me to the emotional impacts on the people involved."

Ztar sighed. "I'm learning myself how to take others into consideration, General. I still have far to go in that regard."

"I have nothing else to report, my Emperor," Gtar-Cro said, indicating that meeting could be concluded and waited for Ztar to dismiss him.

After the General had left his office, Ztar's thoughts remained with Archangel. He did still struggle to include Archangel's needs in his decisions and actions, yet he felt he had come far, particularly the past three weeks. Ztar continued to honor Archangel's request to telepathically respect his privacy as he tried to come to grips with the trauma he suffered. But as Ztar had told the human then, he would maintain the empathic connection and intercede if Archangel was in great distress and so far, the arrangement worked well. Ztar also required nothing of Archangel in the bedchamber and the human stayed in his own chambers at night.

Ztar knew Sukja and Archangel shared confidences in the attempt to heal. Ztar and Sukja did likewise. At one point, Sukja joked that he was getting twice the therapy, since both Archangel and Ztar provided outlets. Ztar had hoped that Archangel might come to him to talk, but that hadn't happened. It only furthered his belief that Archangel blamed him, and rightfully so Ztar believed. The stab of that guilt went deep.

###

Archangel had come to Sukja in search of a distraction the third week after the kidnapping. "The staff manages itself. I need something more to stay occupied. I'm bored. I'm not good with boredom."

The human's request had been laced with almost desperation. Sukja knew all too well how empty time became quickly filled with unwanted memories. The attendant thought carefully for a minute. Then the proverbial light bulb went off.

"You could assume some of my duties for the Emperor."

Warren hesitated at that. It wasn't at all what he had in mind. "Such as…" he asked suspiciously.

'Where to begin?' Sukja thought. After such a long time tending to Ztar's every need, he performed his duties almost without thinking. "Run errands, stock the chambers, work with his tailor, and the like."

Warren crossed his arms and frowned slightly. "Man servant," he said in English not knowing the direct translation in Turzent. An odd expression crossed Sukja's face.

Sukja wasn't sure what Archangel had said in his native language, but the translated words in Turzent were 'paid male slave.' Sukja chuckled. "Not exactly. Male _attendant_."

Warren was curious. "What did the translator say?" Warren had quit using his translator some time ago.

Sukja explained and Archangel laughed. The first laugh he'd heard from the human since the kidnapping. A good sign!

Sukja created a list of everything he felt appropriate to delegate, all of it related directly to Ztar's personal needs, but nothing that should make Archangel too uncomfortable. It was fitting. Who better to handle those tasks than Ztar's companion? As an added bonus, reassigning some tasks further freed Sukja to assist the Emperor in matters of State, which he found more challenging.

"Good God, does Ztar do _anything_ for himself?" Warren half joked looking at the list.

Sukja grinned. "He's Emperor, he doesn't need to."

"Really, Sukja, remind him to get a haircut?" Warren asked as he reread the list Sukja had roughed out. "I think you've completely spoiled him. He's totally unable to care for himself anymore by the looks of this," he said waving the PI. It wasn't until Sukja outlined his new duties, that Warren fully understood the level in which Ztar depended on the Ozjaerian. And these were just some of things Sukja did for Ztar.

Sukja sat back pleased with himself. This was sounding like a better idea by the moment. Ztar would be thrilled that his companion was also going to be even in part his attendant. Perfect! As long as Archangel went along with it that is. The human didn't look all the convinced as yet.

"It allows him to focus on his Imperial duties, Archangel, and not the mundane."

"I was born into considerable wealth and had a personal butler, but at least I could pick out my own clothes!" Warren wasn't at all sure that this is how he wanted to be distracted.

Sukja laughed as a particular memory sprang up from several years ago. "Obviously, you could be trusted to do that. Ztar, on the other hand… Let's just say the one time he attempted to pick out his own clothing for a reception, the color combination was so horrific I thought Wxia'ne was involved!"

A vision of the temperamental staff member in charge of palace entertainment in his loud and clashing colorful outfits made Warren laughed again. "Bad, very bad!"

"You should have seen it, Archangel. Ztar may be many things, but a sophisticated dresser he is not!" Sukja continued to chuckle.

"Okay, so Ztar needs help with that. On a daily basis he does fine, though, right?"

"Have you looked at the clothes? There's nothing he could put together that would clash." Sukja grinned mischievously.

"Clever man you are, Sukja. He hasn't a clue how bad he is, does he?"

"It's our secret – yours, mine, and his tailor's."

Warren still hesitated. Play butler to Ztar? It just felt so…wrong on so many levels. "I'm not sure, Sukja."

"You wanted something to keep you busy and at the moment, Archangel, it's the best I can come up with. Try it and see how it goes. You can always change your mind." Sukja offered, hoping that wouldn't be the case.

Warren thought about it. He did need something more and Sukja was right; there appeared to be few other options available. Still… Yet Warren himself hadn't been able to think of anything. "Very well. I'll give it a try." He was still far from convinced it was what he wanted to do.

"Very good."

'Yes indeed, this _was_ an excellent idea,' Sukja congratulated himself. Now he could become more active in royal court activities, more of an aide, and Archangel could focus more on Ztar's personal needs.

###

Warren was glad for _anything_ that would keep his mind from reliving the kidnapping, which in spite of his efforts it wanted to do over and over. He'd take any kind of distraction at this point, even if that meant taking over some of Sukja's routine tasks associated with Ztar. He did consider this was another opportunity to be manipulated to Sukja and Ztar's ends. Yet it had been a while since Warren sensed any real attempts to maneuver his behavior or attitude, especially not since the kidnapping. And it had been him who had gone begging to Sukja for work.

Alone in his chambers, Warren reviewed in greater detail the list that Sukja had prepared. Sukja warned him that he was likely forgetting things that just came naturally to him after so many years of tending to Ztar. With a devilish smirk, the Ozjaerian had promised to update the list whenever he remembered something. 'Lucky, me!' But Warren had not spoken the sarcastic thought to Sukja. After all, he was trying to fulfill Warren's request for more to do.

The list included everything from keeping Ztar's personal schedule to ensuring the liquor compartment in his chambers is always stocked. This involves periodic visits to the sommelier, Sukja notes explained. The mention of the sommelier caused Warren's heart to lurch, but he pushed down the emotions that welled up at memories of the fateful shuttle trip.

He continued reading. Sort through Ztar's incoming general messages and forward personal ones to Ztar and imperial business comms to Sukja. Ensure Ztar's shuttle was kept cleaned and stocked. Visit the Mi-Lartui periodically to check on the ship. The surprise inspections kept the small crew that remained on board on their toes, the Ozjaerian had noted. Work with Ztar's tailor for all his clothing needs. And the list went on.

By the end of the list, reservations welled up again. This may have been a huge mistake. But he had asked – no, nearly begged – for something to fill his days. 'So suck it up and deal with it, Worthington,' he chided himself. 'No time for feeling sorry for yourself anymore!'

'Personal attendant. The term takes on a whole new meaning,' he then thought with irony, realizing he was going to be more entangled with Ztar needs than ever. 'Next time, be careful what you ask for.'

He got up from his sitting area and felt that familiar feeling in one wing. Looking at the chair, sure enough. A flight feather lying there. Irritability from the molt had been overshadowed by the rollercoaster emotions from the kidnapping the past couple weeks, but the last day or so it was threatening to re-emerge.

'Your life totally sucks, Worthington. No two ways about it!'

###

One difficult early evening, Ztar walked for a long time, past the palace, the compound buildings, and manicured gardens out into the natural landscape beyond the palace grounds. The guilt rested heavy that day and he needed a release. Ztar continued harboring the belief that Archangel blamed him for what had happened, whether or not his companion chose to vocalize it or even admit it to himself. If it weren't for Ztar tearing Archangel away from his world, the attack would not have occurred. That truth pained Ztar greatly. The Emperor firmly believed that once the initial trauma passed, the human would lay blame squarely at Ztar's feet where it belonged. Would the human forgive him? Could Ztar ever forgive himself?

Remembered pain and horror from the empathic connection gripped Ztar was he walked the dry valley floor. Imagined scenes of Drex's men hurting Archangel tore at him. The helplessness and anger ate at his soul. He could do nothing to erase what had happened. He could do little to ease Sukja and Archangel's pain. All he wanted was to slowly and painfully kill the man who had attempted to destroy what he held most dear. As Emperor, he may be able to get away with that, but he could never face Archangel if he did.

Damn the gods! Damn Drex and his depraved cohorts! Why did this happen? Why now when he was finally shedding his old, self-serving ways and learning to love again, to have compassion again? Why had the universe decided to exact revenge on Ztar at this time for his past atrocities? Why do so by harming the two people he loved more than life? They did nothing to deserve to be so punished. Two innocent souls caught up in the path of pain and suffering that Ztar had left in his wake through the years. Is there no justice? How could this be right?! _How_?!!

Rage filled Ztar. He struck out at the landscape with his energy field and rocks, dirt, and vegetation flew. The ground around him shuddered as it absorbed his wrath. Wave after wave of angry energy shot from Ztar's body. He cursed the gods and Drex and the day he decided to bring Archangel back with him to Sat'rey.

In the palace, security sensors immediately sounded the alarm as they detected the energy blasts. Lar jumped to the scanners, shoving the monitoring officer aside. The readings told him it was Ztar's energy being picked up and that Ztar was alone. He relaxed. Ztar had done this before – lashing out with his energy in intense anger where he could do little damage. Lar would send someone to discretely monitor, but allow the Emperor his outlet without intrusion.

Ztar released a blast that left a small crater in the ground at the memory of the dread he had felt the day Sukja reminded Archangel of their upcoming shuttle trip. Why hadn't he made the connection then? It was so obvious!! He could have prevented everything by refusing to let them go. How could he have been so blind?!

He cursed himself for the pain he caused Archangel over the past four years. The cruelty he had inflicted on his beloved companion now cut to his soul. Four years ago, he hadn't cared now much pain he caused. He cursed the monster he had become in the bedchamber the years after his augmentation. Not only for the brutality against Archangel, but all the other companions who had done nothing to deserve the agony he exacted upon them. He deserved no forgiveness or mercy for those atrocities!

Then the pain and remorse that fueled the rage overwhelmed him. Ztar fell to his knees as violent sobs racked his body. The pain from his past cruelties. The pain from his failure to protect Sukja and Archangel. The pain from knowing what the two men had endured in those hours and still endured. The pain from perhaps being forever denied the life with his companion that he dreamed of for four years – Archangel may never forgive him; may never be the same.

'You don't deserve forgiveness.' Ztar loathed himself. 'You don't deserve happiness with or without Archangel.'

The wilderness valley was silent witness as the great and powerful Turzent Emperor cried on the ground.

###

On a rare lazy afternoon, Sukja and Ztar sat quietly in the garden, sipping a cold, summery concoction from the palace kitchens. They were idling watching Archangel riding the air currents above the Imperial Valley.

"He does that a lot," Ztar commented.

"I've noticed. To escape, but to also gain perspective," Sukja replied.

"He told you that?"

"Yes. Said it cleared his head." Sukja took another long drink.

"What clears your head, Sukja?"

"Reading and this," he answered, sweeping his arm to indicating the gardens.

"And it is helping?"

"Yes, for me. And talking with you and Archangel. The more I understand of your turmoils, the better I understand my own."

Ztar turned his attention away from the sky and toward Sukja. "Are you healing, my friend? Can you tell?"

Sukja thought for a long moment whether he felt he was or not. "I believe I am. Slowly, but yes. His healing will take longer." Sukja raised his chin to indicate Archangel.

"Is he making progress?"

"Some days, yes. Other days are a backward step."

Ztar shifted in his seat, seeming uncomfortable to Sukja.

"I think he blames me."

Sukja looked sharply at Ztar. "Why do you say that?"

"If I hadn't taken him from Earth, none of it would have happened. He'd be safe and whole."

"Is it Archangel that blames you, or is it you?" Sukja asked, looking into the brown eyes had held so much pain. Ztar didn't move a muscle at the question. Sukja was worried he may have touched too tender a spot. He was about to apologize, when the Emperor spoke.

"Sometimes I think you know me too well, Sukja. Yes, I blame myself. Every time I look at Archangel, it haunts me. What he must have felt and endured. How he must have cursed me during those hours. My imagination conjures up the most horrifying of scenes of what those men did. But there is no outlet for my rage, Sukja! Nothing for me to destroy! I cannot tell you what I want to do to Drex – it is too horrible to share even with you."

The Emperor was silent for some time, looking up once again at Archangel far above.

"He is so perfect, Sukja. I don't mean that in a naïve way; I know no one is perfect. But he is perfect for me. Archangel is what my soul has waited for and needed for so very long. Drex tainted that perfection, Sukja. He stole from me my perfect Archangel."

Sukja raised his eyebrows at that. The words concerned him.

Ztar picked up that Sukja was misunderstanding. "No, Sukja. There is nothing wrong with Archangel. That's not what I meant. In harming Archangel, Drex hurt me. When I look at Archangel, I think of Drex and his men. When I touch Archangel, I think about those terrorist touching him. Drex inserted himself between me and my companion. He succeeded in that goal when he succeeded nowhere else. I saw that in Drex's mind, Sukja. It was why they brutalized Archangel. They used him to hurt me."

The words rang back to Sukja. It was exactly what Drex had said he wanted to do that fateful day. 'To taint the Emperor's plaything,' if Sukja remembered the cruel words precisely.

Sukja didn't respond immediately, but contemplated the past few weeks since the incident. "Perhaps, my Emperor, you should look at it another way. Even though Drex may have tried to insert himself between you, your bond with Archangel grows stronger. He reached out for you, forced the overwhelming empathic connection that led you to us. That day when you told me he had considered another plunge from the sky, he clung to your mental connection. And the flashbacks and nightmares you helped ease him through – he depended on you to be there. To me, Ztar, that sounds more like Drex failed in his attempt. The two of you are closer than ever, whether either of you realizes it or not."

Ztar thought carefully about Sukja's observations. Was he right? Was Ztar and Archangel forming a bond _because_ of that horrible day?

"I hadn't thought about it that way, Sukja. But I may see what you see. It _is_ encouraging, isn't it? But a bond at what price?"

"Too high a price. But what is, is. We cannot undo what has happened. All we can do is our best to heal and move forward. To look for any good we can find in a situation where very little good can be found."

Ztar pondered that for a bit. Then he smiled mischievously at his attendant recently turned aide. "I knew I kept you around all these years for a reason."

Sukja laughed lightly. "You couldn't get along without me, my Emperor."

###

Warren was beyond exasperated. If he heard one more time "That's not how Sukja did it," he was going to punch out Ztar then and there. He'd been hearing it for over a week – ever since he took over some of Sukja's personal attendant duties. This on top of his general irritability from molting and emotional maelstrom from the kidnapping was too much.

Warren banged down the bottles of Dison and Raimami and then slammed shut the liquor cabinet. "What could I _possibly_ be doing wrong putting away the liquor?!" he nearly growled, turning on Ztar with slitted eyes.

Warren wasn't in the mood. Especially not today. He woke up cranky, had been cranky all day, and wanted to stay cranky. It felt good. Nice change from the gut-wrenching hell he had been living with for going on four weeks.

Ztar looked surprised at Warren's sharp retort. "It's not that you're doing anything wrong, it just Sukja puts the Dison on the first shelf with those glasses and the Raimami on the second shelf with the glasses for that."

"Re-e-al-ly?" Warren drew out the word as bait.

"Yes. And the sanui goes there on the other side, next to those glasses. All quite orderly. Sukja's very organized."

Warren strode over to where Ztar was relaxing in his sitting area, feet up on a footstool, watching Warren with a glass of Raimami in his hand. He stopped next to the Emperor, and leaned down near his head.

"You can put away your own FUCKING liquor!" he shouted in a very startled Turzent's ear and then proceeded to storm out of Ztar's chambers. "Mother fucking bastard Turzent. Lazy, pampered, spoiled son of a bitch!" Warren muttered his way toward his chambers. Just then Sukja rounded the corner of the hall, heading toward Warren.

"Archangel!" he greeted happily. "I was just coming to see you."

'Gr-r-r' Warren snarled to himself. 'The perfect attendant wants to see me.'

"Do you have a minute?" Sukja saw the less than friendly expression on Archangel's face. 'Something happened!'

Warren entered his chambers without a word with Sukja at his heels.

"I wanted to talk about how things are going with your new duties and discuss a couple items coming up for Ztar."

Warren thought for a moment. He could continue being cranky with his second potential victim for the evening, or he could be civil. The choice was easy.

"Your Emperor is a spoiled, whining brat! Everything needs to be just so – exactly as he wants it. And it's YOUR fault. You created that lazy, helpless, demanding son of bitch!" he fumed. Ztar was insufferable. Warren hadn't realized how bad it was until this past week.

Sukja couldn't prevent the smile that spread across his face. Not only at Archangel's assessment of their Emperor, but at the show of feist in the human, which was something he hadn't seen in a while. Another good sign in Archangel's recovery.

"What the hell are you smiling at? You think this is _funny_?! You knew this would happen when you gave me this assignment!" Warren stormed over to the liquor cabinet almost without conscious decision to grab a glass of whatever was the handiest.

"Our Emperor is causing you some trouble?" Sukja asked smoothly as he went over the Archangel's sitting area. With that there was much banging and indiscernible grumbling coming from Archangel's kitchen.

Tall glass in hand filled to the brim with Raimami, Warren stood at the counter facing the man who used to be Ztar's personal attendant full-time. "You created the monster, you can have him back. You have only yourself to blame!"

"What is precisely the problem?"

"Precisely is _exactly_ the problem. Things have to be precisely like you did them. Sukja does it this way. Sukja always did it that way. Sukja is very organized – he'd never put all the liquor on one shelf. Good god, Sukja, in Ztar's eyes you're perfect! I'll never live up. He's all yours! I've had it. Done!" Warren emphasize with a sweep of his arm followed by a gulp of the strong liquor.

"I've worked for him for many years. Ztar has so much upheaval in his life right now, this change is probably a bit disconcerting."

"See?! You're already making excuses for him. That's exactly what I was talking about! You've coddled him and look what's happened. He whining because his clothes aren't in the right places, or his messages aren't in the proper order, whatever the fuck that means. Or his monthly checkup with Vozeipar'de is scheduled at the wrong time. 'Never mid-morning, Archangel! That's when I meet with Sukja.' You two meet every fucking day! What's one rescheduled meeting?! God, he's a baby! A whiny, bratty, seven-foot tall baby!!" Warren couldn't take it any more and started pacing. The more he talked, the angrier and crankier he became.

'May need to talk with Ztar,' Sukja informed himself. "Archangel, it's only been a week. Give him time to adjust to how you do things," he suggested. Sukja knew instantly it was the wrong thing to say. Archangel looked like he was going to explode.

"Give _him_ time?!! _He_ needs time to adjust?! What the fuck?! I'm the one taken away from my home and everyone I've ever known. I'm the one forced to be Ztar's companion. I'm the one who took the abuse when Ztar was as his worst. I even helped the bastard with his big shindig, for God's sake. Now I'm expected to be his royal babysitter and _ZTAR_ needs time to adjust?"

Warren had wanted to throw in the kidnapping, rapes, and torture, but that would be unforgivably cruel to Sukja. He wouldn't let his anger and frustration drag him down to that level.

"I can't do it! I won't! It's too much to ask. I should never had agreed to this!" Warren stalked back and forth between his kitchen and the sitting area. 'Was I daft agreeing to handhold the Emperor? Temporary insanity brought on by the past four years topped off with the incident four weeks ago. That has to be it!'

Sukja sat silently for many moments watching Archangel pace off the anger. A warrior on the warpath, looking like he was ready to take someone out, and made Sukja uneasy. He'd gotten just a glimpse of what Archangel was capable in the Aspend Valley and it had given him a whole new respect for human's physical abilities.

"Perhaps it wasn't the right tasks to take on," Sukja conceded.

Warren came to stop in front of the Ozjaerian with a loud sigh. "Good! He's your pain in the ass as of this moment."

Sukja looked up at the human. The anger seemed to be dispelling quickly now that he gotten his way.

"What are you going to do with your time? If I recall, you don't do well with boredom."

Warren sat down heavily on the edge of the chair across from Sukja. "I don't know. Take up knitting I guess," he joked half-heartedly, using the English word for knitting. He hadn't the foggiest idea if Turzent even had a word for it and really didn't care how it translated. He was coming down from his anger and felt strangely tired. He chalked it up to all the irritations of the day.

"I'll think of something," Sukja offered. "Don't want you bored."

Warren took another sip of the Raimami. The drink was stronger than he usually liked – tasted too much like flavored rubbing alcohol. "Maybe I could hang onto a few of the things Ztar needs done. Stuff he's not such a crybaby about."

Sukja was encouraged. Maybe this wasn't a lost cause after all. "His personal calendar may be a good task to keep. Just a few quirks there to keep in mind."

"I can deal with the liquor cabinet and how you use to organize it," Warren really didn't mind keeping that stocked. And maybe it would be fun to finally get to visit the sommelier.

"You seem to get along well with his tailor, maybe that's a task to keep," Sukja slipped in. Archangel nodded.

"I do want to get up to see the Mi-Lartui. An excuse to get away from the palace." Although the memories associated with Ztar's ship weren't pleasant, it would be a chance for a change of scene and some quiet time in his old chambers away from everyone.

Archangel was rebuilding item by item the exact same list as he'd started with, Sukja realized with amusement. No, this wasn't a lost cause at all.

###

Today would be the first time Warren had met with Rja after the kidnapping. Since her release from the brig once cleared of all charges, she had been amazingly adept at avoiding Warren, nor had he sought her out. He thought much over the past couple days about what he would say or how he would handle the meeting. She had been merely a pawn used for intelligence gathering, Security Head Lar had explained.

"She was never part of the plan or in any way aware of it. The retroist friends she had become involved with were also unwittingly used by the terrorists to obtain information about the happenings at the palace through their plant in the group. We found no disloyalty in her actions. Grumbling and complaining about the current state of affairs concerning you and other things, yes. But treason, no."

Warren had been much relieved to hear that news. He held no grudge against Rja – she being yet another victim.

"Good morning, Rja," he greeted entering her office precisely at the appointed time. The woman that looked up at him held little resemblance demeanor-wise to the Rja he remembered. She was subdued in posture and facial expression.

"Archangel," she replied quietly, moving whatever she was working on aside. Warren caught a slight trembling of the hands.

"Shall we get right at it?" he offered. Perhaps simply jumping back into their routine would be easiest, Warren felt. No uncomfortable apologies or accepting of apologies, if Rja was even so inclined as to offer.

Rja sat a little more upright and looked Warren in the eyes. To his estimation, she appeared to be summoning up her courage and dignity.

"That can wait a bit," she started. "I have something to say first." She paused for a response.

Warren nodded. 'This will be interesting.'

"First, I am relieved that Sukja and you were returned to us relatively unharmed," she started.

'If you only knew…' Warren thought with a sharp pang, but of course few people knew what they had endured.

"Second, I deeply regret the small role I may have played in that terrible incident. In the future, I will be choosing my associates with much greater care. And third-" Rja's voice caught and she took a breath. "Third, the Emperor and I had a long talk. He explained many things to me and I see I had been misguided. I understand I was mistaken about the cause of the war and about your position on the royal court. Our Emperor holds you in the highest regard and asks that I do likewise. I shall do as my Emperor requests, Archangel, and hope we can have an amicable working relationship."

When Rja finished what almost sounded like a rehearsed speech, Warren quietly considered his response. It was an olive branch and one he wanted to accept despite everything. Yet nowhere was there an apology. The proud Turzent apparently was not going that far. Warren rather doubted Ztar would be totally pleased with her choice of words. On the other hand, it was a small step.

"I, too, would welcome that. I hold no malice against you, Rja. Hopefully, we can put all this behind us and move forward."

Rja seemed to sigh internally, whether from genuine relief or simply from having gotten through something she'd been ordered by Ztar to do, he could not know.

"Shall we begin, then?"

Warren left Rja's office with a sense of relief himself. It was the most pleasant meeting they had had to date. Rja may never really like Warren, but perhaps it was possible they could have cordial working relationship.

###

At some point, Warren had made the decision. Somewhere, somehow, in the midst of his on-going recovery, it had occurred. Once made, he refused to second guess or over analyze. It was now or never, he believed.

The gulf that separated him from his old life was perhaps now too wide to cross. After everything that had happened the past several weeks, going back to Earth no longer held the appeal it once had. The difficult transition back to life on Earth after his first year with Ztar made that point once before. Warren now believed he may never be able to transition back into his old life.

Life before Ztar was a distance, almost foreign memory. It was over and it was time to let go. Warren thoughts turned to Rja and her desperate hold on the past and how it had poisoned much of her current life. Holding on to the pain, loss, and anger only created bad soil, as Moit'de put it.

Prune off what is no longer of value, nurture good soil, build toward the long-term possibilities from short-term sacrifices, and use current circumstances to their best advantage. Take the power Ztar gave him and wield it wisely. The words spoken by Moit'de, Atichi, and Sukja all wove together in a common theme – cease being a victim and take back control.

Warren had but one condition to his decision that Ztar would need to meet – no more uncontrolled, pain-filled encounters. He would not go back to that. Ztar had promised that was behind him. Warren felt Ztar believed it when he said it, but the proof would be in his actions long-term.

Realization of his decision sent a shiver through his soul. It frightened him. Yet fear never stopped him before – not when he was an X-man, not when he was with various other groups, not when he was young and dealing with his mutation on his own before Xavier found him. Fear had never ruled him.

Warren's new beginning may not start out being about him, but he hoped it ended with Ztar being strong enough to do what was right – letting Warren go. In the meantime, he would do and give what Ztar needed to heal and become whole.

Right now, though, Warren was the one that needed to heal so he was as strong enough emotionally for what laid ahead. He would continue to work on that. Healing would remain Warren's focus until Ztar posed the question he would eventually ask.

###

Ztar was surprised when he opened the door to find Archangel. Archangel rarely came on his own to visit Ztar in his chambers. Even with Archangel's assumption of personal attendant duties, he seemed to avoid visiting Ztar's chambers of his own volition when Ztar was present.

"Archangel! Come in." Ztar stepped back to allow his companion to pass.

"Do you have time to talk?"

"Always for you, my Archangel. Do you want a glass of Dison or maybe something else?" Ztar was suddenly nervous, and he wasn't quite sure why. 'Perhaps a drink will help,' he told himself.

Better get the strong stuff, Warren said to himself. Never know where this will lead. "Raimami?"

Ztar was surprised by the choice. Archangel usually steered clear of the stronger beverage, but Ztar filled the glasses without comment and joined Archangel in the sitting area.

Warren took a sip of the alcohol. It seemed especially potent that afternoon. "There is something I want to ask you," Warren started.

"Ask whatever you wish." Ztar wondered if it was going to be the big question about Earth and he braced himself.

"It was something Sukja said the other day. I could be reading too much into it, but I thought I should clear the air if not."

Archangel looked nervous and seemed hesitant. Ztar took a sip of Raimami and nodded for Archangel to continue.

Warren worried about Ztar's reaction. He didn't know how else to broach the subject other than to simply ask. He took a breath and plunged ahead. "You don't blame yourself for what happened, do you?"

Ztar wasn't prepared for that question. It shook him. He had expected the topic of Earth – not this. Had Sukja shared that confidence with Archangel? He hoped not. That was between him and his aide. Ztar was displeased with Sukja.

"Why do you think that?" Ztar said in a measured tone.

Warren read the voice, the face, and the sudden stiffness in the Emperor's body. 'Shit, I got it wrong!' Warren believed.

"Forget the question, Ztar. I must have misunderstood. I'm sorry."

Archangel appeared ready to bolt for the door. The empathic connection told Ztar that Archangel was distressed at his reaction.

"Archangel, you did not misunderstand," Ztar said quickly, but firmly. "I was taken by surprise that Sukja shared that with you."

"He didn't!" The last thing he had meant to do was get Sukja in trouble.

"I'm missing something then." Ztar leaned closer toward Archangel.

"Sukja did not tell me you felt at fault. He simply said that sometimes we take the blame for things we really aren't responsible for. That it is sometimes easier to blame ourselves than accept we can't control every aspect of our lives."

"That sounds like our Sukja." Ztar smiled weakly. "Philosopher to the end."

"Then I was right? You _do_ blame yourself." Warren was relieved, but also concerned.

"I'm sorry beyond words that I failed to protect you and Sukja. It never should have happened. I should have been more vigilant." Ztar's whole demeanor changed to one of defeat and guilt.

"But you couldn't have known what was going to happen. If you had no warnings from MI or security, what was there to suspect?" Warren insisted.

Ztar's eyes grew sad and he slumped a little more in his chair at Warren's question. He studied the Emperor. Why exactly had he taken the guilt upon himself?

Ztar looked down as he spoke. "I knew something was wrong, but I didn't pursue it enough. I simply turned the matter over to my staff. Remember lunch a couple days before you and Sukja left when I had that empathic episode? That wasn't the first, but it was the most direct. I realized after you were missing that it hit me just as Sukja had mentioned the shuttle trip. In that moment at the table, I should have made the association. I should have paid more attention."

"You've never mentioned you are _precognitive_!" Warren was surprised.

"I didn't know I was. It's new. All I got were strong feelings of dread – nothing specific, no details," Ztar sighed.

"Listen to yourself, Ztar. Vague feelings from a new ability…it told you nothing. You did all you could at that point and alerted your staff. What more could you expect of yourself?"

"I should have done more myself. _I'm_ the vaunted telepath!" Ztar replied with self-directed anger.

"And use that ability where? Read who? Nothing turned up in Gtar-Cro's investigations of the regular palace staff. Rja and Tarric were both cleared of any involvement. They are guilty only of being used for information, nothing more. Probes here gained you nothing, I assume."

Ztar nodded, admitting he had scanned palace staff when the feelings erupted. Warren felt there was something else Ztar was still holding to that wouldn't let him release the guilt.

"Ztar, Drex and his people are to blame, not you. Don't take on their guilt as yours. They are responsible for what happened to me and Sukja. You are not. Do not let him win this point."

The Emperor was quiet for several long seconds. Then he looked into Warren's eyes with an almost fearful gaze.

"But none of this would have happened if you were still on Earth. You would be safe and not suffering. That _is_ my fault. My selfishness put you in harm's way." The words were nearly a whisper.

So that was the bottom line. Ztar's guilt over Warren being on Sat'rey in the first place. Yes, Ztar was responsible for Warren being on Sat'rey, but the fault was still misdirected. It was never Ztar's intent to put Warren in harm's way. How could he help the Emperor understand that he was not to blame for what happened?

"And you think life on Earth is _safe_? Boy, you have no idea! I'm actually safer here with you than I'd ever be on Earth. You've looked into my mind. You know about Apocalypse and Magneto to name just two. Bad things can happen to anyone to anywhere. That's life. It comes with no guarantees of safety."

"You don't blame me?"

Ztar looked on the verge of tears.

"I do _not_ blame you, Ztar. I blame Drex and J'faird and their men and anyone else directly involved. They are solely responsible for what they did. You are as much a victim of Drex's twisted plan as Sukja and I are."

Warren paused and saw relief beginning to show in Ztar's face. Warren set his drink down and slid forward in his chair toward the Emperor. "You _saved_ us, Ztar. If not for you, I don't know what would have happened, but I do believe the ending would have been far worse. Don't blame yourself. I don't. Sukja doesn't. Please don't carry that false guilt. Don't let Drex win!"

Ztar sat and absorbed what Archangel said. He had believed with certainty the past weeks that deep down Archangel blamed him for what had happened, yet here he was, declaring that was not the case. Ztar reached out and took Archangel's hand. "It was hard when I thought you blamed me. I saw no reason for you _not_ to. And I saw no reason not to blame myself. Once again you show yourself to be far wiser than me. You see things more clearly than I often do. You've lifted a heavy weight from my shoulders, my Archangel. Thank you." A tear escaped Ztar's eye.

Warren let Ztar hold his hand. He felt a sense of accomplishment from relieving Ztar of some the blame and guilt he had held. Another step for Ztar toward healing. And oddly enough, Warren knew he had just taken another footstep in that direction himself.

###

The first conference to review the draft constitution lasted two full days. Ztar, his inner circle, and their legal advisors were all in attendance. The draft had been sent to all involved two weeks prior to the meeting for review. Each attendee came with their list of questions, concerns, and edits.

At the conclusion of the meetings, Ztar felt excellent progress had been made. He shared his elation with Archangel over dinner after everyone had departed.

"Archangel, it's taking shape! To see our vision and concepts becoming reality…it's hard to express." Ztar looked like a proud father.

"You and your advisors have worked very hard. You should be proud."

"I'll hold off on that until after the new government is fully a reality. Then perhaps I'll allow myself that indulgence."

Warren pushed his food around the plate. He wanted to ask the big question, but he still couldn't bring himself to do that. Last time it hadn't gotten him a straight answer. He feared that would be the case again, and again he'd be left dangling. If Earth wasn't to be freed, he didn't want to know yet. If it were, he wasn't sure he wanted to know how Ztar intended to keep him for Warren had no delusions that Ztar would keep him. All Ztar's progress aside, that is what Warren believed with no doubts whatsoever. Best to let sleeping dogs lie for now. The fate of Earth and Warren would be known in due time.

"Do you have a target date for when the transition will begin?" Perhaps Warren may at least find out how long the whole process might take.

"We hope the constitution will be finalized in four weeks. Once it is, the transition will take place slowly, a few systems at a time over an Imperial year."

That'd be upwards to fourteen Earth months Warren calculated. Would Earth be last on the list of converted systems? Knowing Ztar's desire to hold onto him, Warren guessed that would likely be the case. Still he could not bring himself to ask the question that was like the preverbal elephant in the room.

Ztar was surprised and relieved when Archangel didn't press him more on the issue. He had expected the question of Earth to come up, but it hadn't. What was stopping Archangel from asking? Certainly, he wanted to know. The emotions Ztar was picking up from Archangel indicated conflict and anxiety. But if Archangel didn't ask, Ztar didn't have to sidestep the question. He breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"Do you anticipate more trouble ahead?" Warren ventured.

"Yes, unfortunately we do. There will be those that continue to resist the transition. Those whose power is being taken from them. The next couple of years will be difficult and sometimes dangerous."

"Fear of losing control over others is a powerful driver." Warren hoped his two-edge meaning was not lost on the Emperor.

It took Ztar a moment to realize what Archangel implied. He looked at his companion and felt the sting. His fear of losing Archangel _was_ a powerful driver, and Ztar fully admitted to giving in to that fear. He simply was not ready to lose Archangel.

The balance of the meal was spent discussing less delicate issues, much to the relief of both men.

###

To Ztar, Archangel had seemed much improved the past many days. The empathic connection was less troubled, less tense. Something had changed. He was still respecting Archangel's privacy and would continue to do so, like the relationship Ztar and Sukja shared. He would not jeopardize whatever progress he was making with Archangel for a peek into the human's thoughts – the risks were too great. So he had to make do with his empathic senses.

The talk he and Archangel had regarding Ztar's feelings over the kidnapping had mostly freed Ztar of that guilt. Some blame he still laid at his own feet, but it wasn't eating at him like it had before. He felt lighter emotionally. Ztar realized that was the same feeling he was getting from Archangel. The human's emotional state felt lighter, less conflicted.

Ztar decided to broach the subject that had been off limits since that horrible day. It had only been a six Sat'rey weeks since the kidnapping, and if Archangel wasn't ready, Ztar felt he would say so or Ztar would sense it. He certainly would not push his companion.

The need to face his demons about what Drex and his men had done to Archangel had become strong. Would they intrude into the bedchamber and turn what should be bliss into pain? Ztar felt the longer they avoided the issue, the worse it might become.

The time had come. This would be the day he asked Archangel to spend the night with him.

###

Ztar was nervous! So much more than he had anticipated. Archangel occasionally gave Ztar an inquisitive look during dinner, but asked no questions. They were dining late on the patio that evening. Ztar's busy day postponed dinner until after the sun had set. The night was pleasantly warm and dinner in the open air had lured them out. At the late hour, they were alone on the patio with only their server nearby.

Several topics had already been discussed – the progress of the constitution, latest Imperial news, stories about goings-on at the palace. The meal was nearly over, and Ztar still hadn't asked his question.

As Ztar took his last sip of Dison, he decided it was time. "Archangel, there is something I want to ask you."

The Emperor was hesitant, Warren thought. He knew something had been bothering Ztar all during the meal and he had his suspicions what it might be, but he let the Emperor chose the time to ask what Warren would have bet money on.

"What's that?"

"About tonight, I was wondering, if you feel strong enough… if it's too soon, I understand. But I was hoping you might consider..." Saying the words was exceedingly more difficult than Ztar had anticipated!

"You want me to spend the night with you," Warren said point blank. Why make Ztar uncomfortable when Warren knew what he wanted. A mix of surprise and relief spread across the Turzent's face.

"Only if you are ready." Ztar wanted to be sure Archangel knew he did have a choice.

"Yes." Warren's chest tightened at the word.

"_Yes_?" Ztar was greatly surprised – pleasantly so – but surprised. "Are you certain?" Ztar was digesting that Archangel had said yes. It was only three months ago that Archangel had said if they never had sex again it would be too soon. Something had definitely changed!

"Ztar, I won't really know until then. But right now, I'm willing to try."

Realization came to Warren that this was the first time in four years that Ztar had truly asked to have sex and Warren truly felt he could say no. It was a first for them. Never once in those four years had Warren ever thought this scenario may have been possible – Ztar sincerely asking, and Warren consenting willingly. How things had changed! Warren's emotions swirled at the realization.

The empathic connection telegraphed Archangel's emotions to the Emperor instantaneous, and Ztar was concerned. "Archangel, are you sure?" Ztar asked once again in response to signals.

Warren nodded and managed a half smile for the Emperor.

'Caution needs to rule this night,' Ztar believed.

###

Ztar wanted Warren above him. He wanted the wings to envelop them – a shield against the world beyond the bed. And Ztar didn't want his companion to feel trapped beneath him. He was so grateful that Archangel had said yes. He had said _yes_! Ztar had to tell himself again – it just didn't seem possible. Yet from Archangel's perspective, Earth still hung in the balance and so he tempered his emotions. Ztar reminded himself to proceed carefully, monitoring Archangel along the way. He would bring things to a halt if he felt Archangel was not ready. The risks were too high not to.

As his Archangel leaned down to kiss him, Ztar felt a tremor in the human's body. What had caused that? Nothing that Ztar had done. Since Ztar no longer telepathically read Archangel, he had to rely on the empathic connection, but it wasn't as precise a gauge. The tremor and mixed emotions coming from Archangel possibly implied it was too soon to have asked for this night, even though Archangel had agreed. Yet some anxiety was to be expected, no matter how long they waited. Ztar continued to leave Archangel to his own thoughts even though he desperately wanted to know what was going through the human's mind.

Archangel's kiss was also different, more tentative and hesitant, and much less automaton. Ztar nearly brought things to a halt, believing that it was definitely too soon after the rapes. Then Archangel tried again, brushing his lips against the Emperor's seductively. Ztar's desire flared and thoughts of stopping were less pressing. Ztar ached with need for his companion. It had been so long. He wanted his Archangel so much!

Ztar moved his hands up from Archangel's waist, along his back, to the base of the wings. Then he drew Archangel closer to him, and took his mouth. Archangel allowed him in without resistance. Another shudder ran through the human, but it didn't have the same feeling as a shudder of pleasure. Anxiety was rising in Archangel, but he wasn't stopping or pushing away, so Ztar continued hesitantly.

Warren was trying hard to push away the memories of the rapes, but the images kept hitting him. 'Just focus on something else – on Ztar,' he told himself, but the flashes of memory hurt.

Yet that was just part of his internal battle. It was his decision to quit fighting Ztar, to give himself willingly to the Emperor in hopes of helping the Emperor heal his own traumas. So now Warren was fighting against himself, not against Ztar. He was going counter to his nature, and to the long list of reasons to hate the Emperor, to be willingly participant in the Turzent's desire. Not only to offer himself, but to response to Ztar in kind. To make love _with_ the Emperor, not just allow Ztar to make love _to_ him. It was proving much more difficult than Warren had anticipated.

Archangel withdrew from Ztar's mouth and started kissing the Emperor down the neck to the chest. Ztar let his hands travel to points on the wings he knew were especially erogenous and began to titillate. He was rewarded with a soft moan from Archangel.

Warren was trying to push aside his natural tendencies. Powerful impulses to pull away and stop were colliding with his decision to go against those impulses. The contradiction was sending shudders through his body and mind.

Archangel found Ztar's mouth once again and Ztar felt Archangel's tongue push against his. Then Ztar felt something else. He brought his hands to either side of Archangel's face and gently pushed him back. Tears were running down Archangel's face!

"Oh, my Archangel. No! This is too soon. We stop now," Ztar was filled with remorse – he should have waited longer. He continued to push Archangel backward until the two were sitting upright. How brave his Archangel was to try to fulfill his Emperor's request!

Warren shook his head. He now noticed the tears – he hadn't until Ztar sat him up.

"I'm sorry, I'm trying," he said in an almost desperate whisper. This was a bad start to what he was hoping to do. Damnable tears!

Ztar pulled him to his chest, holding Archangel's head on his broad shoulder. "No, my Archangel. _I'm_ sorry – this was not a good idea. You need more time to heal."

Warren felt himself losing control. Perhaps it _was_ too soon. If he was going to do this, he likely needed to be stronger emotionally. All he was doing now was making Ztar feel worse about himself for pushing Warren. But perhaps _that_ was progress for Ztar?

Then in an emotional rush, memories of the hours of torture and rape gripped him as they had done many times the past weeks despite his effort to push them down. Warren quickly lost the fight and surrendered to the tears and pain.

As Ztar stroked Archangel's hair, the tears began to flow freely. At first quietly, then more forcibly. Ztar held him tightly as Archangel sobbed. Ztar soothed as best he could without invading his mind. After a couple minutes, the sobs began to ease. Ztar moved his hand to one wing stroked it softly from top to as far down as he could reach; gently and lovingly, as you would stroke a crying child. Archangel calmed further.

Warren held to the Emperor against the pain, his arms wrapped tightly around Ztar's back. Warren let himself become absorbed in Ztar's gentle strokings. A memory sprang up of sitting in his father's lap while his father stroked and soothed as a then very young Warren cried. He couldn't remember why he had been crying, only that this father comforted him with saying a word. When the tears had mostly stopped, Warren eased himself away from Ztar.

"You can either stay here with me and we'll just sleep, or you can go back to your own chambers, Archangel. Whichever is more comfortable."

Warren didn't know; his mind refused to make a decision.

"Archangel, this was my fault. I should not have asked you to be with me tonight. You should go back to your chambers. I could sit with you until you fall asleep."

Warren fought to find his voice. "It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is. I should have known better. I've been giving you privacy as you asked. I – I didn't know if you were ready, but I should have realized that not nearly enough time had passed."

Warren took a deep breath as his brain slowly began to work again. Was he ready for this? Obviously not from the last several minutes, but his decision had been made.

"Ztar, it's not that – not entirely. I'm probably not quite ready, but that's not it. I want to…but not like before. Before I did because I had to. But not now… It's hard!" Warren fought to pull lucid thoughts together. 'God, I'm babbling.'

Ztar was confused, Archangel wasn't making sense. Ztar felt the frustration and apprehension, mixed with determination. Should Ztar risk a mental peek into the human's mind to clarify? Then Archangel made the decision for him.

Warren shook his head – nothing was coming out right. "I'm not making sense – just take it from me."

Ztar looked into Archangel's blue eyes, still brimmed with tears. A tear escaped the human and Ztar wiped it away. "Are you sure?"

Warren nodded. It would be so much easier than trying to talk. Best for Ztar to read him and be done with it.

Ztar gently entered Archangel's mind reading only the surface thoughts – ones the human was having difficulty expressing. His heart melted when he understood. His Archangel wanted to give himself freely – not because he had to keep his planet safe, but because he wanted to for Ztar. Ztar saw or felt no malicious intent, but a decision to do what Ztar needed. Archangel's thoughts were amazingly like Sukja's. To help Ztar heal and grow beyond who and what he was at the moment – to become whole again.

Ztar looked at Warren with wide eyes. Then as Warren watched, those eyes filled with tears and the Emperor embraced him once again. "I love you, Archangel," he whispered in Warren's ear.

"I know."

Ztar released Archangel and said "Tonight, though, you should go back to your chambers and get some rest."

Warren swallowed hard. If he really was going through with this, it needed to start now, before he lost his nerve. "No, I want to stay."

Ztar was silent for several seconds. Warren could almost hear Ztar's conflicted thoughts, trying to balance his needs against Warren's.

"I _am_ staying." Warren made the decision for Ztar, and with it, Warren felt a little stronger, which surprised him.

Then he leaned to Ztar and kissed him, tenderly at first, then more seductively. Ztar responded as Warren knew he would. It was what the Emperor wanted – what he needed. Ztar laid Warren back into the soft pillows and kissed him deeply and with a particular kind of tender passion he hadn't felt from the Emperor before.

Ztar moved his hands over Archangel delicately. He couldn't quite believe what was being offered to him. Four long years he had dreamt of this moment, never believing it would happen. Not after their history; not after how much pain Ztar had caused Archangel. And certainly not after the kidnapping. Was this real? Could this be happening?

Ztar's fears of the intrusion of Drex and what he and his men had done to Archangel slid away. He focused completely on Archangel – there was no room for thoughts of Drex. Ztar began immersing himself in his companion.

As the passion began to build, Warren felt the stab of panic – memories of rapes mixed with his natural inclinations away from sex with a male. He trembled. Warren was prepared better this time – he knew what he needed to do.

When Archangel trembled beneath him, Ztar recognized the sign and stopped to look inquisitively at Archangel. What should he do?

"Ztar, I need your help – this is still…this is hard for me..." Warren made a second decision for Ztar. With each, Warren felt more empowered.

Ztar knew what Archangel was asking him to do – push aside the aversions and anything else getting in the way. He did ask his Archangel asked.

Warren felt the familiar melting away of his inhibitions along with the memories of the assaults. He placed his hands on either side of Ztar's face and pulled him down into a passionate kiss.

A fire ignited in Ztar. His Archangel was giving himself willing because he wanted to. Not because the Emperor was holding Earth over his head. And Ztar's soul sang! He plunged himself in to the unique sensations that were Archangel…his smell, the feel of his skin and feathers, the taste of his flesh, the sweetness of his kisses, the firmness of his muscles. And Archangel explored the Emperor as if they were lovers together for the first time. Ztar felt the power of their combined passion grow as they gave and took pleasure from one another.

Deep long kisses, sensual caressing, playful teasing, nipping and biting, urgent probing, and lingering touches. They took in each other for a long time, building to that point where the world was only the bed and each other. Then Ztar penetrated his Archangel deeply, over and over again, holding his climax until it was impossible to do so any longer. When Ztar was spent, turned to Archangel and brought him to climax.

When the sex was over, Ztar laid atop Archangel, looking down into those crystalline-blue eyes he could lose himself in and smiled broadly.

"I have never been happier!" The Emperor's voice was still husky from the passion. He ran a hand through Archangel's hair and over a wing. He fondled some small feathers. "I love everything about you! Your mind, your eyes, your wings, body, voice – everything! You are the most beautiful being – inside and out – that I'll ever meet."

Warren looked up at the Emperor. He looked truly happy. The fact that he was gushing Warren's virtues said he was likely _blissfully_ happy. A good start.

As he gazed down at the human who was now truly his companion, questions tugged at Ztar. He wanted answers. What had changed? Why had Archangel decided to give himself to Ztar? Why now when the kidnapping and its aftermath should have caused the opposite decision? But Ztar would not intrude in Archangel's mind. He would wait and wonder until the man he loved chose to tell him.

###

Ztar felt more rested than he had since before the kidnapping. When he rose, Archangel was already gone, which was typical. A quick empathic touch told him his beloved was airborne. Archangel loved morning flights and Ztar would not deny him that even though he would have preferred to wake with Archangel at his side. Nothing would dampen Ztar's spirits this glorious morning. Archangel had made him happier than Ztar could remember being. Archangel had chosen to be with the Emperor regardless of the Accord!

The Turzent ruler strode out to his balcony and searched the sky. As it happened, Archangel was heading toward the palace, coming in over the gardens, the early morning sunlight dancing off his brilliant white wings.

Warren immediately saw Ztar emerging and he changed his flight path slightly to adjust for a landing on Ztar's balcony instead of his own. He knew Ztar would like that. He swept up just ahead of and slightly higher than Ztar and hovered there, waiting for Ztar to step aside so he could land. But Ztar didn't move.

Ztar was completely enthralled with the sight in front of him. The impossibly beautiful creature hung in the air just beyond him. Sunlight backlit Archangel, creating a golden aura around his body. The downdraft from the wings tousled Ztar's hair and swirled the cool morning air around him. The sound of wing beats was rhythmic. He was transfixed.

"Ztar, if I'm to land, you must step back," Warren prompted with a smile.

As if in a trance, Ztar did step backward so Warren could land – barely.

He closed his eyes. Ztar felt the swirl of feathers and wind around him and the sensation was indescribable.

As Warren landed directly at Ztar's feet, he was drawn to kiss the Emperor – he believed it would make Ztar happy. That was what his decision had been about, after all.

Ztar felt Archangel's lips on his and was surprised. Without opening his eyes, he wrapped his arms about his companion and drew him in. Was this happening, or was Ztar still asleep and dreaming this perfect moment? If it was a dream, he didn't want to awake. Ztar kept the kiss gentle until Archangel pulled away. Opening his eyes, Ztar looked down into the face that he loved more than he had words to describe.

"Morning, Ztar." Warren looked up into the deep brown eyes.

"Good morning, my Archangel." Ztar smiled as he brushed his hand across Archangel's cheek.

Warren watched as a twinkle came into the Emperor's eyes.

"If you're not careful, I'll want start every morning like this!" the Emperor warned pleasantly.

###

Sukja knew immediately upon opening his door something extremely positive had happened; the Emperor was nearly bursting with excitement.

Ztar could hardly contain himself as he entered Sukja's chambers that morning. He had to tell Sukja as soon as Archangel left Ztar's chambers to get ready for the day.

"Good morning, my Emperor!" Sukja greeted Ztar, who was still in his chamber wrap.

"It's a miracle, Sukja! You will not believe it!" Ztar grasped Sukja by the upper arms in elation and nearly lifted him off his feet.

"Archangel – last night! This morning! I never thought it would happen! I prayed, I hoped. After everything… How could he? Why would he?"

Ztar bear-hugged him so tightly, Sukja wasn't sure he'd be able to take a breath. The Emperor wasn't putting complete thoughts together, but Sukja was getting the idea. There was only a couple things Archangel could have done to get the Emperor this joyful. But which was it? Sukja managed to get the Emperor to release him with gentle prompting.

"Emperor, what about Archangel?"

The Emperor laughed more heartily than Sukja had heard in a very long time.

"I'm not making sense, am I?" and Ztar paused to compose himself. "Archangel was with me last night of his own choosing, Sukja. His – own – choosing!" Ztar empathized every word so there was no mistake. "It was hard for him, though. He needed my help, but he insisted on staying! Can you _believe_ that?!"

If the Emperor could levitate, Sukja thought he might, as the Emperor walked toward Sukja's balcony.

"Ztar, I don't know what to say other than I am more happy for you than you can imagine!"

"Then this morning, Sukja. He was so beautiful!" Ztar continued as if he hadn't heard Sukja, and he stepped through the open doors onto the balcony. "It was like I was dreaming. He landed right on my balcony and kissed me! He kissed _me_, Sukja."

Ztar turned toward him as Sukja approached the balcony doorway. He could see moisture in Ztar's eyes.

"By the gods, Sukja, you should have seen him. There in the air, just beyond my balcony. He glowed – he was so beautiful I couldn't believe my eyes! Then he landed and kissed me." Ztar shook his head in disbelief. "Why? What changed? How could I be so blessed? I don't deserve him!"

"Perhaps Archangel feels you do," Sukja said, but he, too, wondered what had pushed Archangel to make this decision. It seemed so out of character. Archangel had resisted for four years. Why now?

Sukja sensed a sudden change in Ztar's emotional state. The euphoria was leaving him as Ztar turned away from Sukja and looked out over the gardens.

"No, Sukja, I do not. I know full well the extent of the wrongs I committed against him," Ztar said into the air beyond the balcony. "But somewhere along the way, he has decided to help me – like you do – in spite of what I've done. I can't fathom why."

"Don't over analyze, Ztar. Don't ruin this for yourself by believing you don't deserve what Archangel has decided to give you. He wouldn't want that, not if he is trying to do as you say. Just accept his gift and allow him to do as he has offered."

Sukja worried that Ztar would find this yet another reason to label himself unworthy. It could make Sukja's, and now apparently Archangel's, task so much harder.

"But-" Ztar started.

"No buts, my Emperor," Sukja broke in. "Please, allow Archangel to bring you happiness. Don't fight it." Sukja placed his hand on the Emperor's arm. "Lately, you sometimes think _too_ much," he added with a smile.

Ztar looked at Sukja and then a smile crept once again across his face. "You're right, old friend. I will try to take your advice."

Ztar looked back out over the gardens, watching the groundskeepers at work. "You should have seen him, Sukja. So – so ethereal! That's the only word. My beautiful Esserru!"

But as Ztar left Sukja's chambers, he knew that once the joy of last night's decision by Archangel passed, Ztar would once again wrestle with his decision about Earth. And despite Archangel's decision, he was still bound by the Accord. Whether or not Archangel believed Ztar would punish Earth if he left, only the human knew – assuming Ztar was not reading Archangel any longer as Ztar claimed. What will Ztar decide about Earth? What will Archangel decide if Ztar revokes the Accord and frees Earth. Those were still the big questions.

###

Ztar took Sukja's advice and found couldn't get enough of Archangel. He wanted to be with him constantly; to practically meld with his companion. Ztar wanted anything and everything Archangel had to offer mentally and physically. The next time they were together, Ztar immersed himself in Archangel's mind while they had sex. It troubled Archangel at first, he knew, but the human allowed it when Ztar asked. And Ztar _had_ asked, he did not insist or simply take. It filled him with such joy when Archangel said yes because he wanted to please Ztar, not because he had to. Ztar loved the feel of Archangel's mind. The experience wasn't a telepathic immersion – not to control and read thoughts. It was merging of the senses and presence to join with his beloved companion.

Ztar asked him to move into his chambers, and Archangel agreed. They had breakfast together every morning and dined together each night. In the mornings, Ztar would stealthy watch Archangel as he munched on his zante and sipped the coffee that had come from Earth. Ztar tried it and didn't care for it, but Archangel loved it, explaining it contained a mild, natural stimulant called caffeine that apparently the human found helpful in the mornings. Xavier had even sent the small device to prepare the beverage. It took a little finagling by the palace's maintenance staff, but they got the device to run off palace power. So now every morning, their chambers smelled of freshly brewed coffee when they woke up, but Ztar didn't mind because it made Archangel happy.

The Emperor was increasingly affectionate outside of the privacy of their chambers, yet still reserved. It was more the gentle brush of the face, arm, or wing. A welcome kiss when Archangel landed in the gardens next to Ztar after a romp in the skies. To say that Ztar was happy would be a gross understatement.

Ztar sat in his chamber's sitting area one evening not long after Archangel moved in. The human was preening his feathers for the first time in front of the Emperor and Ztar watched with utter fascination. Archangel sat on the bed, legs crossed, with one wing pulled forward and across his lap. He deftly worked each feather that needed attention from its base to its very end. Wherever there was a split, a very slight rolling motion with his fingers tips realigned the barbs and mended the split.

The molt had passed and Warren didn't want the new feathers to become prematurely worn from neglect – not like on the Mi-Lartui – so he groomed them faithfully every day, even on the worst days after the kidnapping. He had found the mindless, repetitive motion of preening comforting during difficult times. When the realignment process was complete, he rubbed the special conditioner on his hands and ran them over the individual feathers. One wing done and onto the next.

"I wish I had paid more attention to your needs that year on the ship," Ztar finally said with sadness in his voice.

Archangel looked up from his work. "You were a different person back then."

"I regret that."

"I know."

Archangel returned to his grooming.

Ztar set his PI aside. "I could help. It's obvious you can't reach everywhere."

Archangel looked up sharply and apprehension washed over his face. "I don't…"

Ztar felt anxiety rush through his companion.

Warren didn't know how to respond. He had never, _ever_ let anyone help with the preening. It was just too…too personal. Like letting someone bathe you. Fun if you're sharing a shower with someone you care about, not so fun if they're actually washing you in a utilitarian way. Besides, he knew what he was doing and teaching someone else; well, he just wasn't sure he cared to do that.

"Just the back areas, where you can't reach. At least I could apply conditioner," Ztar offered.

Warren looked down at the feathers spread across his lap and bed. This would be yet another piece of himself he would give Ztar. He had already given his body, his mind, his days and nights, and his very will to the Turzent. There wasn't much left. Was he going to lose himself completely to the Emperor? Even to the point of allowing the Emperor to participate in his daily grooming? Yet this is the path he had chosen – give the Emperor whatever he needed in hopes of making the man whole and perhaps strong enough someday to make different choices concerning Warren.

Ztar watched Archangel closely. Had he pushed too far? The emotions emanating from his companion were now a mix of apprehension, anxiety, and loss.

"If you'd rather I not, I understand," Ztar said quietly. He could always ask again later, or maybe never again. The Emperor knew Archangel had already given him so much of himself.

Warren sighed. No sense going this far and then stopping short. He swallowed. "I'll teach you what to do," he told the Emperor.

Sitting together on the bed, Warren taught the Emperor how to mend splits and apply the feather conditioner. It was easier to teach on the larger flight feathers, so that's where they began. Ztar was a quick learner and Warren was soon confident that the Emperor could actually help with the areas he could never reach.

But when Ztar sat behind him to preen the areas behind Warren's back, shudders ran through him as Ztar gently lifted feathers to repair splits. Feelings of violation and no longer belonging to himself washed through him. He tried to ignore them. Suddenly, Ztar's arm wrapped around Warren's waist and pulled him slightly back against the Emperor's chest. For an instant, Warren thought Ztar was going to ask to have sex.

"Thank you, my Archangel. I sense this may be uncomfortable for you. I will work quickly," he spoke softly into Warren's ear. Then he released Warren and went back to working the feathers.

Between the two of them, the second wing went quickly. Then Ztar finished the base of the first wing and the job was done.

Ztar got off the bed from behind Warren and sat back down in front of him. "You do this every day?"

"I should, but sometimes I get lazy."

"Lazy is not a word I'd use to describe you." Ztar brushed his hand across Warren's cheek.

Suddenly, Warren's mind flashed back to that horrifying time with Drex when the torturer brushed his hand across Warren's face. Warren squeezed his eyes shut as strong tremors ran through him.

Ztar recognized the sensations of a flashback immediately; this still happened, but not as often now. Ztar had offered several times to suppress the memories from that day, but Archangel always refused. He said he needed to deal with it. Suppression would only be worse in the end. Ztar tended to agree. Telepathic suppression was only partially effective. Many times, the trauma would still be there, but the victim couldn't place the source of their fears and rage. That was actually worse than knowing where those feelings were coming from.

"My Archangel!" Ztar sent soothing sensations telepathically to Archangel. Would he ever fully recover from that experience? He wanted to pull Archangel into an embrace to comfort him, but physical contact was not what Archangel needed at the moment – it could trigger more memories or intensify the flashback. So Ztar did the only thing he could by sending the gentle soothings to take the edge off and monitor his companion.

This was a bad one. Warren's mind replayed Drex's brutality. The intense, searing pain as his assaulter thrust himself in and out of Warren. The man's laughter as he enjoyed the pain he was inflicting as he tortured his captive. Warren had tried so hard not to cry out to spare Sukja from the worse of the sounds he knew carried easily to the Ozjaerian's cell.

As Warren shook from another tremor, he was there again on that dirty pad on the floor. Laughter echoing off the cell walls. The horror of what was happening to him. The pain. The smell of sweat and blood and alcohol.

"No!" Archangel's voice was strangled as he grabbed Ztar's upper arm in a bruising grip. Archangel was shaking violently, eyes tightly closed, his face contorted in relived anguish. Ztar felt so helpless. His Archangel was in so much emotional pain! He broke his own rule and began to telepathically read Archangel out of fear for his companion. If things got very bad, he'd intercede.

"Archangel, you're not there. You're here with me at the palace. Open your eyes!"

At the sound of Ztar's voice, the memory suddenly melted into the first brutal rape by Ztar. It was now the Emperor on him. Hands tore away clothing, ran down and over his body. Pain-filled sensation followed the path of Ztar's incredibly strong hands leaving trails of deep bruising wherever they roamed. Ztar explored every inch of Warren. His highly sensitive wings screamed under Ztar's powerful onslaught. The attack seemed without end. There was only physical pain and mental anguish and Ztar. Warren's body had writhed under the intensity of the assault. His cries had gone unheeded.

Ztar's monitoring told him of the switch in scene. He observed in horror Archangel's perspective of their first time together. He closed his eyes against the guilt and shame. What he had done to his now precious Archangel left him physically sickened. 'My gods, how could I have been such a monster?!'

For Archangel's sake, Ztar found his voice and pushed aside his own anguish. "Archangel, open your eyes. You're not there – it's just a memory." With that, Ztar entered Archangel's mind and took control. He shoved aside the memory replaying in the human's mind and reached down to the place where the tranquility could be found and flooded Archangel with it. Almost immediately, the shaking subsided and Archangel calmed. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

Warren still had Ztar's arm in a death grip and he couldn't speak yet.

"Archangel, you're safe. It's over."

Ztar's voice was calm and gentle; the words and voice in sharp contrast to the memory Warren had just relived. Safe was the last thing he had felt during that memory. Ztar had treated him no differently than Drex's men. A beautiful body to be brutalized to fulfill fantasy and lust. He tried to clear his head. What was he doing willingly trying to help this man who had so abused him??

Warren held Ztar's eyes, looking deep, trying to understand what this man was about. What he saw was pain. And maybe a plea for forgiveness? As Warren watched, tears began to fall from Ztar's eyes.

Ztar knew Archangel was wrestling again with his decision to give fully to the Emperor. But that particular time, on that particular day, it was suddenly crystal clear how much Archangel had put aside to come to his decision. The grief from losing his former life and all that went with it, the shame of being a mere tool for sexual gratification, his rage at the Emperor's treatment of him, the anguish at being forced into a relationship that was counter to his nature, the horror at the hands of Drex, fear of losing to Ztar any real sense of who and what he was. Each difficult enough on its own, let alone has a whole. An entire list of reasons why he shouldn't do what he had decided to do. And not one good reason why he should.

If Ztar could go back in time, he'd make it right. He still wanted Archangel in his life – that he would not change. But how he would integrate Archangel into his world would bear no resemblance to the cruel, selfish way it had actually played out.

"My precious Archangel, can you ever forgive me?" the Emperor's voice cracked. Yet it wasn't only for him that he pleaded, it was also for Archangel's soul to let go of the anger and hurt. Ztar knew it was there, very deep, very repressed. He feared for Archangel's spirit.

Warren wasn't sure if he could or couldn't forgive. Forgiveness is a huge step. Pushing aside, shoving down, repressing what Ztar did, that was easy. Warren was very skilled in those techniques. But forgiveness? He just didn't know. He wasn't even sure he knew how.

"You are not that person anymore, Ztar. That's what is important. I just need to know you won't go back to that," Warren replied having found his voice.

"I won't – I can't! I promise you," Ztar vowed.

Warren tried to read the Emperor. What did the Emperor need right now? What would help him most at this moment? What did Ztar need to hear from Warren that Warren could say truthfully?

"I believe you," Warren reassured, placing a hand on the Emperor's forearm.

###

Those first couple weeks after his decision were hard on Warren. The deeper he went into the relationship with Ztar, the more smothered and lost to himself he felt. Ztar was like a black hole of emotional and physical need. The Emperor wanted him in every conceivable way – he wanted his thoughts, his feelings, his time, his body…his very soul, or at least that's what it felt like. It was draining and even somewhat frightening.

What had so depleted Ztar's soul? Would the need ever be filled? Warren wasn't certain there was enough of him to do that. He was still recovering from the kidnapping assaults. The strain between trying to deal with that and meet the needs of the Emperor were nearly too much at times. But he persevered. One day at a time. One need at a time.

During one need-filled night, Ztar's attentions were beginning to border on painful. Warren took the offending hands into his and redirected gently. At first Ztar didn't seem to notice, but the third time he pulled up and looked at Warren.

"What is wrong?" Ztar inquired, his eyes lusty and confused at the same time.

"Gently, Ztar. You don't realize your strength," Warren explained softly, not wanting to hurt the Emperor's feelings.

"I'm trying!" was the reply in a voice bordering on frustrated.

"A little less intensity then," Warren coached.

Ztar closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then sat up.

"Ztar, it's okay. We don't have to stop." Warren reassured, also sitting up.

Ztar's face revealed his pain. Suddenly, the man seemed to collapse in upon himself.

"I don't know what to do!" he admitted.

"What do you mean?"

It took Ztar a few moments to answer. He wasn't sure himself how to explain it. In no way did he want Archangel to feel as though he must simply endure him.

"At times like these, I so hate what was done to me! One of life's most joyous gifts and I'm unable to fully let go. That's denied me! If I do, someone gets hurt," Ztar said with a laden voice. "My companions got hurt," he added to clarify.

Ztar held up his hands to Archangel. "These are too strong. They made me too strong and I end up causing pain. I'm tired of having to be so careful! I don't want to hurt you, my Archangel, but I want to be free with you – not have to hold back. But that is not to be!"

Warren contemplated the problem. Ztar's voice reflected the internal anguish and the Emperor's hands were trembling. Yet another wound that needing healing. But how to overcome this? Ztar was what he was – Warren could not diminish the Emperor's augmented strength. This was something the Emperor needed to accept and to leave the pain and anger about it behind. Perhaps even forgive what had been forced upon him.

"Then we need to find a way to make holding back not so much a sacrifice. I can handle some pain, Ztar, if that will help. But I won't go back to the abuse."

"No! That's not what I want. _Please_ don't think I'm asking that." Ztar's eyes widened with concern that Archangel was misunderstanding.

"I know that's not what you meant. I'm saying we need to find a middle ground. At the same time, though, you need to come to grips with who you are. To accept your restrictions without hating them. They are part of you. Like my wings. They bring me great joy and have brought me great sorrow and difficulties. But they are part of what I am, and I need to embrace them completely or risk hating who I am."

Warren drew in a breath. Did he just say that? His advice sounded so good, yet he himself hadn't taken it. After all these years, he still struggled with the love/hate relationship with his feathered body parts. Perhaps he could learn something about accepting himself from Ztar's struggles.

"In theory, I understand that. But in reality…"

"Much easier said than done…I know," Warren finished. "You and I are a lot alike in that respect. I have a ways to go in taking my own advice, which I'm sure you know from your earlier telepathic probings. Sometimes, I don't like myself very much and I blame the mutation."

Ztar noted that Archangel's voice had become very soft, almost a whisper. He knew the self-loathing that Archangel often struggled with. So while Archangel's words were sound advice, he indeed hadn't been able to follow it himself. Thus, Archangel completely understood Ztar's own struggle.

"Maybe we can learn together how to accept that part of us," the Emperor offered, placing a hand on Archangel's shoulder.

"Perhaps we can. But for now, let's see if you and I can find some middle ground," and Warren leaned over and kissed the Emperor deeply, resurrecting the passion.

The rest of the evening Archangel and Ztar gave and took in the sensual middle.

Morning greeted them, filling the room with sunlight. Warren remained in bed until Ztar woke – a pleasant surprise for Ztar.

"I thought you'd be out for your morning flight," Ztar said rolling over to take Warren into an embrace.

"I can go later," he answered simply.

"I'm glad you stayed," Ztar said smoothing Archangel's hair. "You're hair's a mess!" he said teasingly. Ztar looked at the outstretch wing on Archangel's opposite side. "So are your feathers. I think I caused a few splits last night," he noted with a devilish grin.

"Then you can help fix them!" Warren said in mock chiding.

"I'd be happy to help," Ztar offered with slight surprise. The only other time he'd assisted Archangel in the preening process, it had made the human uncomfortable.

And so began a ritual they shared when Ztar's morning schedule allowed, either before or after Warren's morning flight. Ztar loved the time they spent grooming Archangel's wings. It was intimate on a different level. And he freely admitted he loved touching the wings even in a utilitarian way. They were one of the things that made Archangel so unique and sensual.

###

It was eight Sat'rey weeks to the day of the kidnappings when Ztar got the disturbing comm from General Gtar-Cro.

"How is that possible?!" Ztar was flabbergasted.

Gtar-Cro's image over the highly secure comlink reflected his deep concern. "We may not have eradicated the Etagllot as we believed. Nothing is a certainty as this time. More investigation is required to confirm their existence from more than just this single source."

Ztar was silent for many seconds as he absorbed the implications of his General's discovery. Etagllot scientists were the ones behind his augmentation. The highly secretive, highly unethical group believed in advancing science regardless of the potential risks and damage. Like mercenaries, they worked for whoever paid the most for their research and developments. Their organization would also insinuate itself into positions of power to protect their interests. So dangerous was the organization that even the old Ta'oc regime had outlawed their existence. Yet what one hand of government forbid, the other hand used to their own ends. In its determination to create super soldiers, the military used the Etagllot scientists in their augmentation program. The day Ztar's powers manifested, he killed many of the illicit scientists and later as he rose to power, he ordered Gtar-Cro to eliminate anyone associated with the Etagllot. After three years of intense investigation and hunting, the General and Ztar believed he had gotten everyone. Apparently not.

"How did we miss anyone? Where did they go? How many got away?" Ztar drilled his head of Military Intelligence, leaning toward the comlink screen.

"My Emperor, we as yet do not know. But we will – that I vow. What I can tell you at this time is that there is some indication they may have been given refuge by the Commonwealth."

Ztar sat back in his chair. "The Commonwealth? That could explain much!"

It was Gtar-Cro's turn to lean forward. "That is yet unsubstantiated, Emperor, but it would be the simplest explanation. If the Commonwealth is indeed involved, then we must proceed with discretion."

Ztar nodded. "Agreed. But I want answers, Gtar-Cro, and I want them as quickly as you can manage."

"As always, my Emperor. If the Etagllot is operational again in Turzent space, we will find and destroy them," he assured his ruler.

"Correction, General. If the Etagllot is operational anywhere in this galaxy, we will find and eliminate them. They are too dangerous to allow to build any manner of a power base."

"Agreed, Emperor."

Ztar ended the comlink and his mind raced. If the Etagllot were indeed active once again, he may have a problem within his government that was already out of control. How far had the group infiltrated? Just as frightening was the possible Commonwealth involvement. How entrenched was Etagllot in their power structure? From whichever angle Ztar looked at the situation, it was alarming.

For the time being, there was little the Emperor could do but wait for MI to do its job. But the waiting would test his patience.

###

It had been nearly nine weeks since the kidnapping and Sukja and Warren were both regaining their emotional stability now at a much steadier pace. Warren felt stronger nearly every day, but he still had occasional flashbacks and days he just couldn't bring himself to do anything meaningful. He had a long way to go, but he had also come far and hoped the worst was behind him.

On one particular day, he felt the need to pass some time with Moit'de. Other than the weekly staff meetings, Warren hadn't spent any time with the gentle gardener since that fateful day. It took Warren a minute to spot the gardener from the air as Moit'de was at the outer fringes of the landscaped palace grounds. At the sound of flapping wings, Moit'de looked up from his work.

"Greetings, Archangel!" he called out in his usual welcoming tone.

"How are you today?"

"I'm good this day. Promise of rain in air. Dry times gone soon!"

Warren had noticed the difference in the air when he was flying. More humidity and coolness in the higher elevations.

Moit'de was weeding a planting bed, something Warren thought would have been a chore for one of the master gardener's staff.

"May I help?" Warren inquired.

"Extra hands always welcome," Moit'de answered with a grin.

It was the second time he'd used that phrase with Warren. Moit'de seemed to enjoy working with Warren, although he had never seen Moit'de working in the same manner with any of his staff. Odd.

Side-by-side the two men labored on their knees plucking out the unwanted vegetation from around the desired plantings. Working with his hands felt good, almost therapeutic, and he allowed his whole focus to rest on the task. They worked mostly in silence that was only interrupted if Warren questioned which plant should stay and which should be pulled. When the weeding was done, Moit'de sat back on his heels and looked at Warren.

"See plant there?"

Warren looked to where the gardener was pointing. It was a somewhat lanky looking shrub-like plant.

"It tell me not happy. I don't know why, only that it not. Has all it needs, but still not happy. Don't know what to do," Moit'de gave a shrug-like gesture that seemed to mean being perplexed.

"If it has everything it needs, why is it not thriving?" Warren now saw how sickly the plant appeared in contrast to all the others around it. "There aren't insects or something killing it?"

"No, no problems. Just not happy. Something wrong inside, something not well."

"Maybe a new location?" Warren offered, knowing the gardener had likely already considered that.

"Location perfect. That not it."

"If it has you baffled, Moit'de, then the plant is in serious trouble." Warren moved from his knees to sitting with his legs crossed. His wings were spread over the ground, but he'd deal with any dirty feathers later.

"When insides injured, it show on outside. Hychriatos could hurt inside. Everything outside good."

Warren was beginning to realize they weren't really talking about the hychriatos plant. He shifted uncomfortably on the ground and dropped his eyes to examine the grass.

"Hychriatos show hurt just before reception. Something bad happened and not same since," Moit'de said carefully, seeming not to want to push.

Warren plucked a blade of the grass and twirled it in his fingers. It was similar to Earth lawn grass, but not quite. The blades were wider and more rippled and the green darker. Black veins ran vertically through the blades, adding to the deepness of the overall appearance. "Something bad did happen. The hychriatos is recovering though. Give it time." He looked up at the gardener's face through his lashes, not able to raise his head quite yet. Warren thought he'd done a good job of hiding his trauma from staff. Apparently, it had not eluded Moit'de's keen observation skills.

"Heard story about hychriatos dug up and taken, but found again and replanted. All should be well, but not. Something bad happened while hychriatos taken – something not known."

The gardener was still offering Warren the choice to continue talking about the plant or about himself. Warren's uneasiness was growing and he thought about leaving, but couldn't bring himself to get up. It was almost as if he were glued to the ground.

"Something did, but we're dealing with it," Warren whispered.

Moit'de quietly watched as Warren focused on the blade of grass in his fingers.

"More wrong inside. Goes back further than hychriatos being taken. Not happy before."

Warren shook his head. This was not the first time Moit'de had made that observation, but Warren wasn't comfortable revealing the details of his situation with Ztar to the gardener. For one, Warren was Moit'de's boss – it didn't seem appropriate. Yet Warren felt drawn to the gardener for friendship.

"Some things are best left untold," Warren said, hoping the gardener would not be offended.

Moit'de shifted on his heels and looked Warren in the eyes. "Then this, friend Archangel. If injured inside, find what hurt there. Heal from inside out – not other way. Outside will follow."

Warren nodded. It was sound advice and he had thought it was what he, Sukja, and Ztar were already doing. But there was more to what Moit'de was saying than just about the kidnapping. Warren had many injuries inside that he had never dealt with – long in his past and more recently.

Moit'de gave Warren one of his warm smiles. "Now back to work!"

The pair moved to the next garden bed and worked in comfortable silence.

###

Ztar and his inner circle gathered once again at the palace nine weeks after the announcement to discuss the second draft of the imperiocratic constitution from the law-writers. Stjarmas'de had come with two additional legal advisors to answer questions and explain passages in the document.

Ztar was pleased with the how the document was evolving, but still had several concerns he wanted to discuss. It was likewise with his inner circle. Some areas of the document clearly communicated how the government would function in keeping with Ztar's vision. Other areas remained off the mark.

The meeting lasted a full day. Ztar did not want to rush this process. Missteps now would have lasting affects. By the end of the meeting, the law-writers seemed to have a firm grasp of the issues and agreed to complete the third draft in a week.

Things were accelerating more rapidly now with everything involved. The list of tasks to be completed for the transition were already well developed and seemed endless. Those tasks and their accompanying timelines were complex, but allowed for flexibility and fluidity. After the reception, Ztar's in place Imperial government was bombarded with offers of assistance and suggestions. Both were accepted graciously, but treated with a wary eye. The forced-together worlds of his empire still sought to maneuver for their own benefit, not necessarily for the benefit of a unified realm.

The unveiling of the constitution would likely be the trickiest, most dangerous step for the new government. It would need to be presented in such a way as to alleviate fears, assure stability during the transition, create hope for the better future through a united effort, and be a rallying point for the masses – something the many diverse peoples _wanted_, not something they felt was thrust upon them. No short order! Ztar just hoped that he and his current government were up to the challenge.

One thing tore at Ztar. The day of Earth's freedom would eventually be upon him. While Archangel was now freely giving himself to Ztar, would that hold once Earth was legally free of the Turzent-Earth Accord? Or should Ztar not free Earth of that agreement? If he did not, Archangel would likely never forgive him. But if Ztar did, Archangel would be lost to him. The powerful telepath could force Archangel to stay, but that would destroy everything about their relationship he cherished. Ztar spent many hours agonizing over the problem.

At times, the thought of losing Archangel physically sickened him. He believed in his heart that he would not survive the loss. Life would not be worth the effort without Archangel in his arms. The closer decision day came, the more tortured he became. Even though his legal advisors pressed the Emperor for a decision on the upcoming legal status of Earth, Ztar couldn't yet make a final decision concerning Earth and Archangel. He wasn't ready.

###

Warren was rummaging through his wardrobe when he saw the message chip from Xavier. It surprised Warren – he had nearly forgotten about it. Xavier had sent it weeks ago along with the food stuffs the courier brought back from Earth. At the time, Warren couldn't face watching the message. But now?

He picked it up and examined it as if looking at the chip would somehow provide a clue as to its contents. Warren still didn't know if he could listen to it. Maybe it said that someone had died or other urgent message. Warren had determined weeks ago that even if that were the case, there would be nothing he could do in response. If someone had died, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Warren placed the chip back in the drawer and slid it closed. No, he wasn't ready.

###

The smothering effect of Ztar's needs and attentions seemed to ease gradually after the first three weeks following Warren's decision. For that he was grateful, as it had nearly made him change his mind more than once. As the fourth week had unfolded, he and Ztar had fallen into a more comfortable, less intense routine.

Now something else was creeping around the edges of Ztar's emotional state. Warren couldn't put a finger on it, but Ztar was tense and uneasy. Yet when Warren carefully asked what was bothering the Emperor, he denied there was anything wrong. Warren wasn't an empath, but he knew Ztar had lied to him outright for the first time. That bothered Warren – he had never once caught the Emperor in a lie. If Ztar had lied, it was not a step in the right direction.

Warren had spent less time talking with Sukja about the Emperor since his decision, instead choosing to speak directly to Ztar himself. But now Warren may need to consult the Ozjaerian. Perhaps he could shed light on what was bothering the Turzent.

###

"I don't know what to say, Archangel," Sukja hedged. He knew all too well what was eating at the Emperor, but he wasn't free to share that confidence.

"That's not an answer, Sukja. I think you know what's going on."

"Whether I do or don't, I still give you the same advice – talk with Ztar."

"I tried and he denied there's anything wrong." Warren didn't hide his exasperation.

"Then perhaps you're misreading him. Ztar isn't given to lying," Sukja suggested.

"I don't think I'm off base on this, Sukja." Warren leaned on the rail of Sukja's balcony. It was late afternoon. The heat of summer was finally giving way to cooler temperatures of Sat'rey's coming fall. It promised to be a beautiful, comfortable evening in the Imperial Valley.

Sukja joined Archangel, resting his elbows on the railing and looking out over the gardens below. It was a long minute before Sukja chose to speak again.

"Fear is a powerful emotion, Archangel. It can make the best of us do things we wouldn't consider under normal circumstances. But if we can recognize the fear and deal with it, our thinking can become much clearer. Dealing with our fears frees us to make better decisions, wiser decisions."

Warren looked at Sukja. The Ozjaerian was obviously trying to tell him something without revealing anything specific.

"Ever the philosopher." Warren repeated Ztar's words regarding Sukja.

Sukja smiled out at the gardens. "You sound like Ztar."

"They're his words."

Sukja turned toward Warren. "If you're right and Ztar is struggling, perhaps you can help him face it, deal with any fear, and move forward."

A bit later, Warren excused himself from Sukja's chambers saying he wanted to clean up before dinner. The real reason was he wanted time to think before dining with the Emperor.

Warren suspected what was bothering the Emperor – Earth's status under his new government. Freeing Earth likely meant freeing Warren. It was a guess, but Warren felt it made the most sense. That decision would tear the Emperor apart without a doubt. And if Ztar couldn't resolve the issue himself, someone else had to.

Sukja was right and Warren likely had decisions to make. If Ztar was indeed struggling with whether or not to free Earth because of Warren, should Warren promise Ztar he would stay willingly? That would allow the Emperor to move ahead with releasing Earth from the Accord without fear of losing Warren. Freedom gained for Earth's people, bondage still for Warren. One out of two may be the best he could hope for right now. At least it would be bondage _chosen_ by Warren, not forced upon him.

'But why does it always come down to a sacrifice on my part?' Warren thought with bitterness.

As determined as Warren was to discuss the issue with Ztar at dinner, his determination failed him when they were actually dining. He just couldn't say those words yet – 'I will stay if you free Earth.' It was one thing to give himself willingly while still bound under the Accord, but it was a commitment on a whole different level to indenture yourself of your own choosing.

And so the elephant in the room remained.

###

"My Emperor, a decision must be made soon. The legal ramifications could be widespread." Ztar's top legal advisor pressed over the comlink.

"I understand the ramifications, Counselor, and I understand a decision needs to be made. How much time can you give me?" Ztar spoke to the man at the other end of the comlink without facing the viewscreen as he paced both and forth in his office.

"We have prepared a list of anticipated impacts for several scenarios; each has their own timelines as linked to the final draft of the constitution and its implementation. I've sent that to you for review."

"I'll look it over," Ztar said gruffly.

"Emperor, may I ask as to the reason why this decision is difficult? Why is Earth causing you so much concern? Perhaps if I fully understand the situation…" he tentatively asked. Stjarmas'de had his own ideas concerning the human called Archangel, but Ztar had never stated why he hesitated to free Earth from the Accord. Ztar had a history of going through bedmates at a rapid pace. However, the counselor suspected that Ztar had formed much more than a casual attachment to the human, as the four years of togetherness and the appointment to imperial staff would indicate. It would explain much, but Stjarmas'de never assumed when it came to the Emperor.

"This is important why?" Ztar was irritated even more now.

"Depending on the reason, we may be able to work out an alternative legal recourse," Stjarmas'de offered quickly, sensing the Emperor's irritation even through the comlink.

"You will have my decision soon," Ztar said, ending the link.

His head was spinning and he sat down. Should he be the ultimate hypocrite and keep the Turzent-Earth Accord in force or let Earth be part of his new Empire with the same freedoms and rights as all the other systems?

"Damn the gods!" he said aloud.

Ztar knew what he should do – treat Earth like all the other Imperial systems. His legal counselors were right in their concern about this issue. The message sent by any other decision could undermine everything he was working to achieve.

Still the personal price was too great. He could not lose Archangel! Even though Archangel was willingly giving of himself to Ztar now, would he continue to do so knowing nothing prevented him from leaving? Ztar was convinced the human would leave. Why wouldn't he? What would possibly keep Archangel in a relationship that was not only unnatural to him, but one that provided no benefit, no appeal, no reason to remain? And Ztar doubted Archangel's recent commitment to helping him was strong enough to cause him to stay. Why would that be the case? Ztar could not fathom a single reason that would cause Archangel to choose to remain with him. No, Archangel would go – whether back to Earth or somewhere else – of that, Ztar was certain.

The more Ztar contemplated Archangel leaving, the more distraught he became. And now he was coming to the point where he couldn't procrastinate much longer. The third draft of the constitution was nearly ready for review. He was backed into a corner – a very undesirable position for the Emperor. He hated corners and he felt like a trapped animal with no viable escape.

###


	10. Chapter 10

_Greetings one and all! Well, this chapter is a big one – a major story arc comes to a conclusion, as well as minor ones. But as those conclude, another seemingly benign issue is raised. For my two devoted reviewers, I hope you'll find a little something especially for each of you here. _

_Happy reading!  
_

**Chapter Ten**

The man sitting in front of Sukja was tortured – it was written on his face and in how he held his body. Sukja was becoming increasingly more concerned about Ztar by the day. There was but one reason for the Emperor's distress – Archangel. The fear of losing the human had the Emperor in a fierce grip.

"How long before a final decision is needed?"

"Soon. The document cannot be finalized without it. The wording of that Accord goes against the very foundation of the constitution. So to keep the Accord alive, I would have to be granted special powers to uphold it." Ztar slowly shook his head. "Sukja, that's just not a viable option. The messages it would send are all wrong!"

"There are no other alternatives?" Sukja probed, but he already knew the answer.

"None that wouldn't also result in Archangel's contempt." The Emperor's body shuddered with the emotions he was trying to hold at bay.

"With no options to hold him, my Emperor, it becomes Archangel's choice."

Ztar closed his eyes against that truth and the pain it caused his soul. "Yes, Sukja. The choice I denied him four years ago will finally be his and his alone. But this time, there is no reason for him to stay. Earth will no longer be at stake. I will have no threat – no power over him." A tear fell in defiance of the Emperor's will. "He will leave me, Sukja. There is not a single reason he will not!"

Ztar was in anguish. Archangel's recent decision to be more of a true companion to Ztar only made this harder on the Emperor. Perhaps in hindsight, it would have been better if Archangel hadn't done so. Ztar had gotten a taste of what a more full relationship was, and now the pain was even deeper at the thought of losing it.

"I wish with all my being that things could be different." Sukja knew the Emperor was right. Why would Archangel stay? He could fathom no reason.

"Then pray for a miracle, Sukja. A miracle is the only way I see Archangel staying."

As Sukja left the despondent Emperor, he agreed. Only a miracle would give Ztar everything he wanted – his new empire as he fully envisioned it and Archangel. Sukja could not see where any amount of manipulation or suggestion would be enough to cause the human to decide to stay with the Emperor after he was freed. Time was not on their side. It would be futile to try. If Ztar was unwilling to force Archangel to stay, his companion was certainly lost to him.

But Sukja was encouraged by Ztar's struggle. Four years ago, three – maybe even fewer – Ztar may not have struggled so with the decision. He would have found a way to keep Archangel against his will. He would not have been capable of this sacrifice. Not only had Ztar grown so much as to be unwilling to compromise his dream for his own self-gratification, but he was unwilling to hold onto Archangel against his will because he loved the human enough to let him go. Selfless love. How far the Emperor had come!

The years that Sukja had spent trying to guide the Emperor toward this moment were finally coming to fruition. Yet Sukja had to give credit were credit was due – likely these last crucial steps would not have been possible without Archangel in Ztar's life. When Sukja first saw Archangel, the most he had dared hoped was for the human to be the one to finally satisfy the Emperor in the bedchamber. Never in Sukja's wildest dreams could he have imaged how much of an impact this one person would have.

Sukja didn't believe in fate, but perhaps there was a greater force at work that brought those two individuals together. In retrospect, Archangel came into Ztar's life at the perfect time – not too soon and not too late.

But what would the ramifications be of losing Archangel? Would all the progress made be lost, partially lost, or hold? Would Ztar become so despondent as to be unable to guide the Empire during the next critical year? Would he emotionally survive losing his companion? Those questions frightened Sukja.

If only Archangel would stay, but he had no reason to do so. It would be too much to ask of any one, but especially considering the history between the two men. Sukja could not begin to image what it would be like getting out from under four years of bondage. Yes, Archangel would choose freedom. Sukja would if he was the human.

And Sukja allowed himself to be happy for Archangel, while he feared for Ztar.

###

Warren was on edge and everyone around him seemed to be also. The Emperor wasn't happy was the general consensus, in spite of the man's attempt to put on a good front. Even so, people picked up on the subtle signs and undercurrents. Ztar was not himself, but very few people knew why. Warren had pretty much deduced it had to do with Earth, and therefore, him. He wasn't being egotistical, but he knew Ztar. Ztar wanted him. The new constitution likely freed Earth, although Warren had no proof of that. If correct, a free Earth logically meant Warren could leave. That would distress the Emperor greatly.

Despite his attempts, no one would confirm Warren's theory. Not Sukja and certainly not Ztar. When he asked, all he got were half-answers or smoke and mirrors. Warren hadn't been offered the chance to read the draft constitution, so no answers through that route. Yet he was still convinced the Emperor would find a way to ensure he remained. But at what price to the Emperor and possibly the new imperiocratic order? What would Ztar need to sacrifice to keep Warren in bondage?

The bigger question Warren needed to answer kept nudging him. If Ztar found a way to ensure his continued servitude, how would Warren handle that? He didn't know. He would be more than a little angry – that was a given. Would he feel the need to renege on his commitment to Ztar? Or would he choose to stay the course in hopes of someday reaching his ultimate goal?

'Damn the whole fucking situation!' he yelled in his head. Too much guessing; too much information he didn't have. All he wanted was to know where he stood. Couldn't someone just tell him?

The royal trio wasn't so happy these past couple weeks and the tension was affecting nearly everyone in the palace.

###

The master gardener was busy pruning a bed of shrubs near the reflecting pool on the sunset side of the palace. As late afternoon sun bathed the grounds, the heat of the day had dissipated and now it was quite comfortable.

Warren landed near Moit'de. He felt a need to talk with someone more detached from the situation. Atichi came first to mind, but he knew from Sukja that she was visiting family on Ozjaer. Moit'de was the next choice. Warren was about to break a rule of his – don't talk about personal matters with subordinates; that just leads to messy and uncomfortable situations. But Warren had few choices on this alien world and Moit'de had shown himself to be a man of simple wisdom.

"Good evening!" the gardener greeted with a broad smile. "This one of my favored times – day near end, sun low, peaceful."

"I would have to agree, even though I love mornings."

"Each special – no choose one over other. Enjoy both!"

"No arguments from me." Then Warren took a deep breath, "Do you have time to talk?"

Moit'de stopped his work and his face became serious. "Yes, Archangel. Perhaps we sit?"

Warren nodded and they made their way to a bench overlooking the reflecting pool. The palace's image shimmered like a mirage in the water. Warren watched the reflection for several seconds before speaking. Moit'de, to his credit, allowed Warren the time to gather his thoughts without interruption.

"What I tell you is confidential. It can't go beyond the two of us."

"I understand, Archangel. It go to grave with me, that I vow."

Looking at the gardener, Warren believed it would. He exhaled slowly. "It's about Ztar, the new constitution, my homeworld, and me. I need a fresh perspective. Are you still willing?"

Moit'de nodded.

"The first thing you need to understand is that I'm not here willingly. Ztar is holding my home planet hostage to ensure I stay with him. It's been that way for four years. I stay with him to protect my world."

Moit'de raised his eyebrows, but only nodded to indicate his understanding.

"But with the new constitution, I suspect Earth will be freed. Ztar hasn't said that, but all indications say that will be the case. At least it should be. If Earth is freed, then in theory, so should I." Warren paused to regain his composure – he found himself the brink of tears. He blinked them back.

"And Ztar now unhappy," Moit'de summed up succinctly. "Explains much," he added.

"It gets more complicated. I decided several weeks ago to- to be more of a…companion to Ztar. He has many hurts that need healing. He needs to become whole again. So many bad things happened to him and happened because of him. I thought I could help…" Warren voice broke slightly, and he swallowed hard. "I felt at the time he'd never release me without healing…that if he healed, he might eventually let me go."

"Ztar planted in bad soil long time. Much hurt and hate. Ztar not love self – feel unworthy. Selfish many years trying to fill void."

Warren cocked his head at the gardener. "I think that sums it up pretty well."

Warren felt so torn about his plight. How to put that into words that Moit'de would fully understand?

"Sukja has worked very hard to help Ztar. You and Sukja encouraged me to do the same and I decided five weeks ago to do that. I can't know for sure, but I think I _am_ making a difference. And even though _that_ much was my choice, I am still bound to Ztar legally. But, damn it Moit'de, no one will tell me what happens after the constitution!" Warren felt his anger rise at the frustration. "Will I still be bound or will I be free? If I'm bound…god, I don't know if I could accept that! But I'm certain Ztar will find a way to keep me here. He's given no indication that's he's ready to let me go. But _if_ I'm free, do I go? Do I stay? To be the leader the Empire needs, Ztar should be emotionally whole. Does Ztar need me here for that to be the case? I don't know what to do, especially this next year." Warren finished in exasperation.

"Your choices?" Moit'de pressed.

"I'm rambling, aren't I?" Warren regathered his thoughts. "I can simply wait and see what happens. Ztar may find a way to keep me despite whatever the constitution may say about planetary freedom. Perhaps he won't revoke the Accord or he finds another way to keep me here. Either way, Ztar would be happy. Truthfully, though, I don't know how I would react. But we wouldn't have to worry about Ztar's emotional state during the critical year ahead as the government transitions."

"Earth perhaps bound. Archangel bound. Little choice for Archangel," the gardener recapped.

Warren nodded agreement. "Or I can choose to tell Ztar _now_ that I will stay regardless of what happens with Earth. If his struggle is choosing between releasing Earth to fully realize his new empire and keeping me, then I can end that struggle by promising to stay. That means willingly binding myself to Ztar for god knows how long. But again, we wouldn't have to worry about Ztar during the transition."

"Earth free. Archangel bound. Archangel choice one."

"Yes. Or again, I can wait and see what happens. Perhaps Earth will be freed automatically under the constitution. Then I'm free to leave in theory. I could choose to leave."

"Earth free. Archangel free. Choice two."

"Right. But if I make _that_ choice, what happens to Ztar? He still seems so needful. Maybe he would be fine after a while if I leave, but my instincts tell me he would not. The empire needs his strength and focus through the transition ahead. I don't want to jeopardize the transition by a less than stable Emperor at the helm."

"Stay freely. Choice three." Moit'de said simply.

"But if I am free, I can go back home! Or anywhere I want to go. I'm not sure I want to stay in a relationship that's not- that's not natural for me. That'll never be right for me." Warren felt the heat rise in his face.

Moit'de gazed into Warren's eyes and then the gardener's own widened in comprehension. "You not choose male companions?"

Warren shook his head.

"Difficult choice you made weeks ago," Moit'de said, patting Warren's knee.

Warren had to swallow a few times to fight down the emotions that were ready to boil up. After a minute, he felt he could speak again. He appreciated that Moit'de didn't try to fill the gaps in the conversation – it was one of the things that made him such a good listener.

"At the time, it appeared to be the only road to eventual freedom," he admitted.

"If Ztar changed and grown, he let you go," Moit'de said encouragingly.

"That's just it – I'm not sure he's capable of that yet. That's _selfless_ love, Moit'de. To love someone enough let them go. He does tell me he loves me, but that may still be possessive love. If he can't bring himself to let me go, then he will find a way to keep me. Yet could he justify holding my world hostage and under the threat of slavery while freeing every other star system in the Empire?"

The gardener could not answer that and simply waited for Warren to continue.

"If he does free Earth and still keeps me here against my will, I'm not sure I could forgive that. I don't think I'm that noble. If only I knew for certain what Earth's status was going to be, where I stand, it would makes my options more clear."

Moit'de did not reply, but sat quietly obviously contemplating his response. So Warren said no more and watched the reflections in the pool. It had a calming effect.

"Ztar loves you," Moit'de finally said.

"He says he does. I believe he does in his own way," Warren sighed.

"Ztar does. Obvious to all. You make Emperor happy," the gardener confirmed. "Are you happy? Content? Sad?"

Warren thought for a moment, and his answer actually surprised him a little. "All three, actually. Some days as happy as possible under the circumstances. Other days…not so much. Most days, content enough – given I have little choice but to be here."

"Ztar treat you well?"

"Now he does. That wasn't always the case. I think he's been trying to make amends. Ztar has changed much in that area."

"Anger drove Ztar too long. You _are_ good for Emperor," Moit'de smiled.

"But what to do now? He's been upset and agitated for a couple weeks now. It gets worse every day. I get the feeling the clock is ticking for Ztar on a decision – likely about Earth under the constitution, but again I don't know because he won't talk to me. And when I asked Sukja, he just gave me some vague reply about what fear does to one's thinking."

"What _do_ you fear, Archangel?" Moit'de twisted the thought around.

Warren was confused. "What do you mean?"

"What you fear most?"

"Him keeping me…Ztar not being emotionally stable if I go…"

Moit'de turned more toward Warren and his voice grew softer. "Two fears, same root."

"How so?"

"Fear what happen if not finished with Ztar."

Warren considered the gardener's words. "I think I see what you're getting at. Because he hasn't finished healing, he could force me to stay. Yet if he let's me go, he may not be ready for that either. Two fears, same root cause – he's not healed."

Moit'de was quiet for several seconds before speaking again. "A gardener put some plants by others to help weak plants be stronger. Like dayfras be close to young lixcheons. Dayfras shade lixcheons in hot summer. Dayfras keep edger bugs from lixcheons with special scent. Dayfras help lixcheons grow. Once lixcheons big, no longer need dayfras. Lixcheons strong enough to be on own. Universe sometimes like gardener. Put people where they needed. Perhaps put you with Ztar. Help him grow. Once Ztar strong enough, Archangel go."

"So you believe my being here is destiny?" Warren didn't believe in fate.

"Destiny? Not quite right. You here perhaps for _purpose_. Something you need to do – only _you_ can do. These choices may be what needed to finish with Ztar. Maybe without choices, no more be done…cannot finish."

Warren rolled that idea around. "If I'm understanding correctly, you're saying that I might be here for a purpose – help Ztar. That this situation with the constitution is forcing choices. Ztar choosing whether or not to let me go, and me choosing whether or not to stay. And that the only way to help Ztar move forward is through these choices. Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes," Moit'de nodded enthusiastically. "But right choices must be made by both."

"Ztar must choose to let me go, and I must choose to stay." Warren wasn't sure he liked the conclusion he drew.

"What Archangel's soul say?"

Moit'de would have to ask that. Warren had followed what his heart/soul told him to do when he decided to become a willing companion to Ztar. It told him to make the sacrifice with hopes for eventually regaining his freedom by healing Ztar. When it came right down to it, Warren already knew what he _needed_ to do for Ztar's sake. The question was what did he _want_ to do versus what was he _willing_ to do?

"I'm not sure yet, Moit'de. But thank you. You have given me a different way of looking at things. I'll think about what you've said," Warren said rising from the bench.

Moit'de stood and looked into Warren's face with earnest. "Universe wise. Of all beings, you chosen to help Ztar. Archangel must be very strong. Take strong one to help Emperor."

"I don't feel very strong at times. Thanks, again. It's getting late, you should call it quits for the day," Warren added as the gardener picked up his pruning shears.

And with that, Warren leapt into the air. Moit'de's words did give him another perspective to consider: Purpose. Warren had always felt that sometimes people come and go in our lives for a reason. When that purpose has been accomplished, the person often drifts away, and usually only in hindsight do we realize the difference they made in our life at just the right time. Maybe there was something to what Moit'de said about Warren being in Ztar's life. But, Jesus, did it have to come with such a fucking high price?!

###

Ztar approached Archangel with some hesitation. He still wasn't sure he should be doing this, but Sukja had encouraged him. If Archangel left by this evening, he'd make it in time.

"Archangel, I have an offer for you," he started, sitting down across from his companion on their balcony where the human had just eaten lunch.

Archangel looked up. "What kind of offer?"

"It's regarding Drex." At the mention of the man's name, something flickered across Archangel's face and Ztar felt a jerk in their empathic connection. "His trial concluded a few days ago."

"Really? That was fast," Archangel looked down at the table. "They didn't need my testimony? Or Sukja's?"

"Sukja testified by comlink several days ago."

Warren was stunned. The trial come and gone and he had been kept in the dark? He should be very angry, but he couldn't find the will. "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't I have to testify?"

Ztar knew this might be a sticky subject. "It wasn't necessary, Archangel. There was already so much evidence against him, it would have been redundant. Sukja's testimony was sufficient." Ztar let it go with that, feeling the less said the better. He did not wish to share with Archangel that he had told Starjamas'de in no uncertain terms that Archangel was not to testify.

Warren nodded. He chose to accept that explanation for now. "You should have told me," was all he said.

"Perhaps. But perhaps it was best this way, Archangel. It is over and you didn't have to relive that day again."

Warren considered that for several moments. It was a relief, he admitted to himself. No fretting, no stewing while he anticipated the trial. It was over and done with while he was blissfully unaware. "Maybe you're right. You said you had an offer?"

"Drex received a death sentence. He will be executed the day after tomorrow. You are entitled to see him before he dies."

"See Drex?! Why would I want to do that?" Warren couldn't image why he'd want to see his torturer again.

Ztar leaned closer to his companion and took his hand. "You will be free to say anything you wish. This right is granted to victims and their survivors for a reason. It can be very freeing to face your attacker when you have the power and tell them what you've thought of saying for weeks. Drex will be the helpless one this time."

Warren's head was whirling. Was this something he wanted to do? "I don't know."

Ztar's soften his voice even more. "The guards at Ennovoc prison will not intervene if you choose to do more than talk."

Warren looked sharply up into Ztar's eyes. He knew what Ztar was suggesting. An opportunity to exact a bit of revenge on the man who had hurt him so deeply was tempting.

"When do I need to decide?"

"You would need to leave tonight. Tomorrow is the last day for visitors. The Mi-Lartui is on standby."

"I'll let you know this afternoon."

Ztar got up. "If you wish, I'll go with you. All you need to do is ask."

Warren nodded. He had some thinking to do.

###

Now that he was at the detention facility, Warren wasn't sure this had been a good idea. The anger he had worked into was leaving as dread of looking into the face of the man who had tortured and raped him crept in. 'Don't deny yourself this,' he told himself as he tried to resurrect the hostile feelings.

He'd told Ztar he wanted to go alone, but now wasn't certain that was such a wise idea either. But Head of Security Lar had sent Gragne and another guard that had been in on the rescue, so he did have familiar faces with him.

His heart pounded as Warren and the two guards moved through the high-security facility to the visitor room. All the prisoners in this section were sentenced to death, he had been told. The worst of the worst criminals were here, most being responsible for many deaths and/or were enemies of the Empire.

The prison guard dropped the force field across the entrance. As Warren and the two royal guards entered the small room, Drex looked up from his seated position at a small table with obvious surprise. It was immediately followed by a very sinister grin. "I wondered who was coming to visit me!" he exclaimed. "The Emperor's whore – the one I had so-o-o much fun with!" Drex said to Warren's escorts.

Warren's stomach lurched, but he held himself fast and stared into Drex's eyes with as cold a look as he could muster.

"Either keep your mouth in check Drex, or we make sure you can't use it again!" the Gagne ordered.

"That will come soon enough," Drex said smoothly back. "I'm just wondering if Archangel has come back for a little more of same?" he chuckled.

Warren approached Drex, rested his hands on the table, and looked down at the terrorist. "Actually, I've come to fulfill a pledge I made to _you_ that day."

"And what pledge might that have been?" Drex locked eyes with Warren.

"That if it was just you and me, you'd be dying."

Drex was silent for a moment, then burst out laughing. "I'm already dead, whore! Tomorrow, if they didn't tell you. But you want take me out a day early, be my guest!"

Then he laughed again and it sounded so much like the laugh from that day. A tremor ran though Warren as memories he thought he had successfully dealt with sprang up with vividness. He blinked and Drex saw it.

"I see you haven't forgotten our time together, human. It was memorable was it not?"

"Enough, Drex!" the guard warned again, stepping threateningly closer to the prisoner.

Drex raised his shackled hands. "Are you going to beat me while I'm helpless? Is that your plan, Archangel?"

Warren righted himself. "It'd be no different than what you did to me. I was also helpless to fight back. Made you feel like a man, did it? To torture someone you knew wouldn't resist? I rather doubt you'd have the guts to try what you did had I been free to fight."

Drex smiled invitingly. "Should we find out? Just you and me. That's what you came here for, isn't it? Vent your anger? Why not indulge yourself, whore? Let's see if you are a fighter or not!"

Warren nearly shook with emotion. He'd like nothing more than to beat Drex until near death. All the rage, all the pain and horror began to well up. "I should have let Ztar do with you as he wished that day. That was a much more fitting punishment that the quick death you'll get tomorrow."

"Ah, yes. Our Emperor was impressive that day! So much like the old Ztar again. It was glorious to see. It saddens my heart that he has become soft and misguided. But you did that to him. You tamed our conqueror." Drex waved his hands toward Warren. "Gentlemen, behold the whore that castrated our ruler and possibly the Turzent people as well," he said to the guards. Then he turned back to Warren. "Are you pleased with your handiwork, Archangel?" Drex sneered in contempt.

"That's so ludicrous, it's not worthy of a reply, Drex. Your twisted perspective is what has landed you here and what will end your life. Perhaps now is the time to ask whatever god you pray to for forgiveness."

Drex was quiet for a moment, though never taking his eyes off Warren. It made Warren extremely uncomfortable as Drex's gaze traveled up and down his body, but he didn't let it show. He would not allow the attempt at humiliation and intimidation succeed.

"I'll bet, though, our Emperor hasn't been tamed in bed. He still takes you whenever he wants, yes Archangel?"

In that instant, Warren lost it despite what he told himself before coming. In the blink of an eye, the table was tossed aside, and he had the Turzent in the air, dangling by the throat from his hand. "Perhaps you wish to reconsider your insults, bastard!" he said up to the man who had caused him so much anguish.

As Warren clamped down around Drex's neck a little more. He noted the guards hadn't even flinched, but stood idly by.

"I take my pledges seriously. Perhaps I should follow through on the one I made that day. I am much stronger than I appear, as you'll probably realizing right now."

To the terrorist credit, he didn't struggle. Simply eyed down at his former captive, shackled hands clenched around Warren's wrist.

"If I squeeze a little harder, your windpipe will begin collapse," Warren explained as he tightened his grip. "Less and less air can get through now."

Drex's eyes began to show some concern as he struggled to breath through his narrowing windpipe. 'God, this feels good!' Warren allowed himself as the anger and hate flooded him.

"Your oxygen-starved brain will begin to shutdown, but not before the panic sets in. Not a pleasant way to die, would you agree Drex?" Warren couldn't help but smile. He hoped it was as wicked as Drex had displayed earlier.

Drex started to kick. His face was turning an odd shade and his eyes grew more desperate.

"Such brave talk earlier, Drex. Interesting how when it comes right down to facing it, dying can scare the shit out of even the most hardened men. How is the oxygen deprivation going, tough guy?"

Drex was struggling more violently now. Warren used his other hand to restraint Drex's arms as the man sought to break Warren's grip. The Turzent was quite strong, but Warren was stronger and filled with adrenaline fueled by vengeance.

"Not pleasant being helpless to stop what's happening to you, is it?! This is nothing compared to what I endured at your hands and the hands of your men. If I was truly seeking revenge, you'd be on the floor while some of your prison mates enjoyed themselves with you while I watched and laughed."

Drex was beginning to lose consciousness. Should he finish it? It'd be so easy now. Drex would be dead tomorrow anyway, what would one day early matter? 'No. You're not a killer, Worthington. Never have been.'

Warren dropped the nearly unconscious man to the floor. He sucked in air tentatively at first, then in large, ragged gulps mixed with coughing as he laid on the floor. Warren knelt down beside the shaken terrorist. "Remember this tomorrow, Drex, when you take your final breath. I had the last laugh and it's you lying on the floor helpless."

With those parting words, Warren rose and moved to the exit. Gagne opened the door ahead of him and gave Warren a quick, appreciative smile. Warren felt freer from that horrifying day. He had faced his tormentor, made his point, and did not give in to vengeance. This had been a good idea after all.

Tomorrow, justice would be served when Drex's sentence was carried out. He would pay with his life for those lives he had taken without remorse – the shuttle maintenance tech, pilot, co-pilot, and guard.

###

The third draft of the constitution had been received and only minor changes were needed, assuming Earth was to be treated no differently than all the other systems. The final version was due in a week. Ztar was running out of time. Soon he would be forced to make the final decision regarding Earth and Archangel. He knew what needed to be done for the sake of the new Empire, but actually doing it would seal his fate with Archangel. He would lose his companion. At this juncture, he saw no other way the scenario could play out. Ztar would not hold Archangel against his will, but if he procrastinated a little longer, he could delay the inevitable.

If Ztar was going to loose Archangel, he wanted one get-away trip first. Something he could to hold onto after. It had to be somewhere special, but Ztar wanted it either on Sat'rey or a nearby star system. He wanted to stay close to his seat of power. No gallivanting across the Empire when serious work was at hand forming a new government – it sent the wrong messages.

A beautiful, mountainous region right on Sat'rey came to mind. This would be the perfect time of year to visit. The weather would be dry and warm. Sukja would find perfect accommodations, Ztar was certain. There were always vacancies when you're the Emperor – a perk of being who he was. He rarely wielded his power in that way, but for this he would.

Archangel could frolic in the skies above mountain valleys. Ztar knew Archangel would love riding the thermals of the rugged terrain. Ztar himself loved the mountains. Their majesty touched him deeply, reminding him that there were things bigger than he was – more powerful. They awed him. Yes, a mountain get-away it would be. He summoned Sukja and the plans were quickly set in motion.

The next morning at breakfast, Ztar announced the get-away.

"I've scheduled a trip for us, my Archangel. A couple days away – just you and me – if you're up for it."

That made Warren stop mid-bite. "You mean like a vacation?"

"Yes. In the mountains here on Sat'rey. They're beautiful. You'll love it, I'm certain!"

Warren was definitely taken by surprise. When did Ztar plan this? It seemed to come out of nowhere.

"Do you think it's wise to go off right now with everything that's happening?" The timing appeared off considering Ztar was in the middle of forming a new government.

Ztar set his utensil down. "I chose the location because it's on Sat'rey. Nothing should happen over the next couple days that I can't handle from there if need be. It's actually a good time to go – we're in a lull right now waiting for the next constitutional draft and things are quiet across the Empire."

Warren knew 'quiet' was relative when your Empire consists of more than 350 habitable planets. Maybe it would be good for Ztar to get away. The tension within the Emperor these last couple weeks had been mounting almost daily. Still Ztar would not talk about what was eating at him. Maybe on this trip Warren could get the Emperor to open up.

"Then we should go."

"Good! We leave this morning – everything is set." Ztar smiled, something that had grown increasingly rare of late.

###

Ztar appeared to be looking forward to the trip greatly. The farther the shuttle had gotten from the palace, the more relaxed the Emperor seemed. So far it was looking like this was a good idea.

"This place is totally isolated, Archangel, and we have the whole place to ourselves – no other guests. Only the minimum staff remains to attend to us. We'll do nothing but relax."

"Another perk of being Emperor, I presume?" Warren smirked and Ztar nodded grinning. Warren knew that 'whole place to ourselves' is relative when you're an emperor. It was him, Ztar, and only Lar and Gtar-Cro knew how many discreetly placed guards.

As the shuttle approached the chalet nestled deep within the high mountain range, Warren agreed with Ztar – it was beautiful. The range reminded him of the Grand Tetons on Earth. The mountains jutted up steeply with few foothills. High, majestic, snowcapped – picture postcard perfect!

When the mountain air hit Warren as he stepped out of the shuttle, it made his heart sing. He loved the mountains and the air here smelled much like the air around his Colorado aerie. Briefly, he wondered what was happening with his beloved mountain retreat. He quickly turned his thoughts to the here and now.

"Welcome, Emperor and Archangel!" the man at the edge of the shuttle pad greeted with a huge smile and a bow. "My name is Irian and I manage our mountain retreat. When we heard you were coming, we were honored beyond words. If there is anything you require, just say the word and it will be done. May I show you around?"

Ztar nodded and Irian immediately began the tour, explaining the layout and the chalet's facilities. It was truly beautiful, Warren observed. Built mostly from what at least appeared to be natural materials and every inch of the building and grounds took advantage of the location. The architecture did not try to compete with the breathtaking setting, it sought to complement it. Unlike the manicured gardens of the palace, here things remained natural and wild to the extent possible. Narrow walking paths wound between the main chalet and the few other buildings on the site. On the far side of the chalet, a large deck protruded out over a precipice that dropped away at least 500 feet to a valley below. Their tour ended at that magnificent site – an obvious marketing technique to wow potential visitors and confirm the choice registered visitors had made to stay here. It worked.

"Your luggage has been placed in your suite. When you are ready to dine, just comm the chef and he will prepare whatever you wish or will be happy to make suggestions. I will leave you now to get settled and to do whatever you desire." Their guide left with a bow.

Ztar walked to the edge of the deck to take in the view. Warren joined him. What Warren really wanted to do was get in the sky and experience the place as he only could from there.

"This is beautiful beyond words, Ztar. Thanks for bringing us here," Warren felt warmly toward Ztar at the moment, and the feeling surprised him. But awe-inspiring surroundings can sweep you away like that.

"I needed to get away, my Archangel. Thank you for agreeing to come."

Warren was a little taken aback – he hadn't realized he had a real choice in the matter. A minor thing – he let it pass.

"You belong in these skies. Please go! I will watch from here." Ztar requested. What he really wanted to say is 'I want to watch you play in the sky for what may be one of the last times!' but of course he did not.

"Are you sure? We've only just gotten here."

"Yes! Go!" Ztar managed to smile, but he needed Archangel to leave quickly – tears were threatening and he wasn't sure how long he could hold them back.

Warren took flight and the chalet dropped away quickly below and behind him. Out over the mountain valley he soared. Warren opened his senses to the air currents, smells, sights, and the sound of the wind past his ears. As he sailed over the valley, he was quickly picking up on the various currents running through the air layers. As the valley floor warmed in the late summer sun, it created updrafts and he caught a strong one and rode it up. That wonderful leaving-the-stomach-behind feeling filled him and he loved it. Like a roller coaster, he caught a downdraft next and the plunge created the same sensation in reverse.

Warren was in his element and he immersed himself in the experience. His soul sang its song of joy and rapture. He was meant to be a rider of the winds.

Below, Ztar watched his beloved. The empathic connection told him Archangel had reached that level of emersion where nothing else existed. Ztar loved the visceral emotions. He closed his eyes to fully focus on the experience vicariously. He wanted to remember everything about it – to burn it into his mind. It would be something to remember after… Opening his eyes, he searched to spot Archangel. The flash of sunlight across the pure white wings showed him quickly where the human was.

A single tear escaped Ztar, but he would allow himself no others, he told himself firmly. These two days were to enjoy and cherish. They would not be wasted wallowing in self-pity and despair.

Warren decided not to be gone too long. Likely, there would be plenty of opportunity to enjoy the skies. So after a bit, he returned to the deck, landing close to Ztar, which Warren knew he'd like.

Ztar greeted him with a smile, but Warren's keen eyesight caught what looked like moisture in Ztar's eyes. So Warren did what he thought he should, he closed the gap between them and pulled Ztar in for a kiss.

The Emperor brought his mouth down urgently on Archangel's. By the gods, he was going to go insane if he had to live without Archangel's kiss! Ztar encircled him in a slow embrace and brought a hand up between the wings to press Archangel even closer. He focused on each sensation of Archangel's mouth, tongue, lips – this, too, he wanted to burn into memory.

A mountain wind gust swept up and around them, catching Warren's wings and lifting them slightly. Warren allowed himself to melt into the kiss and Ztar's embrace knowing it was filling a need – apparently an urgent one, laced with desperation even. If only Ztar would tell him what was going on. Perhaps on this trip?

Ztar finally released Archangel gently from the kiss but held the embrace. "I love you," he said softly with as much emotion as he could fit into those three words.

And Warren said he usual reply, for it was all he could offer. "I know," he said gently.

Ztar would give away his whole Empire without hesitation if Archangel would say he loved him in return, but Ztar knew it would be a lie. Ztar did not like lies, no matter how great his desire to hear it. Archangel was giving Ztar as much as the human could muster. And it was enough for there was no more his companion _could_ give.

"Let's eat lunch and decide what to do for the afternoon," the Emperor suggested, raking his hand through Archangel's wind-tangled hair.

"Sounds like a plan."

After enjoying a meal suggested by the resident chef on the private balcony of their appropriately named Majesty Suite, they decided to head out to one of the many vistas the area offered. One of the best according to chalet staff was only about twenty minutes by foot from the chalet.

"Tell me about your mountain chalet back on Earth," Ztar asked as they walked. "Forgive me, but I saw it in your mind four years ago." He wanted to be sure Archangel understood this was old knowledge and he hadn't taken that information recently.

"No need to apologize, Ztar," Warren reassured. "It's quite the engineering and architectural wonder, actually. I had it built after my parents were both dead as a place I could go to get away from the pressures of life. Cost an insane amount of money – everything had to be 'coptered in. It sits on the edge of precipice much like this chalet. Has all the comforts – swimming pool, decks, whirlpool tub, fireplaces, plenty of room for friends…you name it. Sadly, I didn't use it as much as I should have. Life kept me pretty busy."

"It served its purpose when you did stay there?" Ztar wanted to know.

"Most of the time. Occasionally, life followed me there, though. Sometimes it was used as a base of operation for the X-men. Once that happened, it wasn't quite the same. Maybe that's when I started going less often, now that I think about it."

The two walked quietly for a couple minutes, taking in the majesty of the mountain setting. The trail wound through trees and rocks, on its way to the overlook. Occasionally, they'd catch a peek of the view to come. Then suddenly the trees parted and the valley spread before them. A railing framed the vista and protected visitors from the 500-foot drop.

"This is magnificent!" Ztar proclaimed, smiling at the beauty before them.

"You can see the chalet, just there." Warren pointed out to the Emperor. Warren keen eyesight also picked out animals in a small herd on the valley floor. "Look down there. Can you tell what those animals are?" he queried, pointing toward the animals in the distance.

Ztar struggled to even see what animals Archangel was referring to. "Not from this distance, Archangel."

Warren described the four-legged grazers in detail for Ztar.

"Your eyesight is a wonder!" Ztar shook his head in amazement. "Those would be paddas. They're native to the region."

"Wild or domesticated?"

"Wild. Paddas have a bad temperament and have never been domesticated. Nasty animals!" he said with a chuckle.

"Did your family have any animals when you were growing up?" Warren thought to ask.

Ztar looked curiously at Archangel. No one had ever asked him that before. In fact, no one other than Sukja had asked Ztar about his family for many years.

"No. But on my home planet, an animal called a tumitu is a favorite household pet. It's furry and about this high…" Ztar held his hand about knee high to Warren. "with a short tail…could I put an image in your mind?"

Warren nodded. He felt the mental touch, an image popped up, and then Ztar's withdrawal. "It's similar to a gerbil, only bigger," Warren compared. "I never owned a gerbil, but from what I know, they aren't all that smart. Hopefully, your tumitu is more intelligent given its size!" Warren laughed.

Ztar loved Archangel's laugh. It was like music to his ears, and now he was on the verge of never hearing it again. Then he yanked himself back sharply from that edge of despair.

"How about…?" Warren tried to find the word, but realized he didn't know it. "Damn, I don't know the Turzent word."

"My translator is turned on." Ztar informed.

"Sports." Warren said it in English. "Did you play sports when you were young?"

"We had games when I was young, but there usually wasn't much time for playing. My family was very poor, Archangel, and survival was top priority. My spare time was spent trying to help bring food into the house."

That surprised Warren immensely. He studied the man leaning on the rail of the overlook. What he had just learned made the Ztar's climb to the very pinnacle of power even more astonishing.

"I didn't know that, Ztar. I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about! That's just the way it was. I know without a doubt that if I hadn't grown up under those circumstances, I wouldn't be where I am right now." Ztar turned to face Warren. "I was determined to better my status in life. So as soon as I was old enough, I joined the military. It gave me a steady income, place to live, and a chance to move up through the ranks if I applied myself. And I did. I quickly found I was good at strategy – very good, in fact. And my superior officers thought so, too. That became my ticket for advancement. The rest of the story I believe you know…" his voice trailed off.

Warren watched Ztar's dark eyes grow even darker with that thought. This trip wasn't meant to be filled with painful memories. "Perhaps we can continue down the trail? I'd like to see more," he suggested, changing the subject.

"I have a better idea. Remember that hidden meadow Irian mentioned? We should go while there's time."

"Good idea." Irian's description of it had sounded intriguing.

Arriving back at the chalet, arrangements were quickly made for the brief flight to what Irian called Hidden Falls Meadow.

As Warren and Ztar stepped out of the shuttle and navigated around the screening vegetation surrounding the landing pad, Warren's breath was nearly taken away. It was stunning! The small meadow was nestled against the side of the mountain, beneath a cliff face that had to rise 800 feet. But what grabbed your attention most was the dramatic site of a thin waterfall free-falling the full drop of the cliff face. You could hear the sound of crashing water from the shuttle pad. Warren was instantly reminded of Yosemite Park.

Mist rose high from the base of the falls where the water churned and pooled to then flow away from the cliff face as a gentle stream weaving its way through the middle of the valley. Late summer wildflowers were in bloom across the meadow floor and the entire area was encircled with tall mountain shrubs. With snowcapped mountains rising all around, it felt as though the meadow was embraced by the peaks – safe, protected, and undiscovered. That was likely the basis of the name.

"This is incredible!" Ztar was the first to speak, walking out into the meadow along a barely there trail.

"I will stay with the shuttle," the pilot informed. "There is an observation deck on one side of the meadow – if you're lucky, you may see some wildlife come to the stream. We just ask that you stay on the trails to help keep the meadow pristine. Irian had a snack packaged for you, complete with Dison, if you get hungry. Just let me know when you're ready." And the pilot returned to the shuttle. The two guards slipped into the background where they could watch over their charges without be obvious.

"Very thorough fellow, that Irian," Warren observed. "Knows how to pamper his guests."

"I suspect that's why Sukja chose this chalet," Ztar said grinning.

As they walked toward the observation deck, Warren felt the familiar itch to get airborne, but he suppressed it and followed Ztar. Once at the deck, Ztar settled into a comfortable wooden chair and Warren stood at the rail to take in the amazing view.

Warren closed his eyes and let his other senses take over. Listening past the sound of the waterfall, he heard insects, various animal calls, and the gentle wind through the grasses. The soft heat of the sun on his shoulders and back made him spread his wings to catch its warmth in the just cool mountain air. Scents of earth, water, and flowers filled the meadow. Even here on this alien world, the mountains smelled like mountains.

The wildness called to him – almost audibly and physically. This is why he so loved the mountains. They felt like home on the deepest possible level. As Warren expanded his awareness even farther, a shiver ran through him and his wings rose higher. The sky tugged at him sharply.

Ztar watched as his companion immersed himself in their surroundings. The sensations that flowed to Ztar told him the setting spoke to the feral side of Archangel's nature. It was drawing him in.

"Archangel, go! Enjoy!" Ztar said, sensing the need.

Warren didn't hesitate – it wasn't even a decision. He was simply in the air without thought.

As Archangel soared in the sky above him, Ztar watched. Joy and anguish collided as he followed the human's aerial maneuvers, catching updrafts and riding downdrafts, then circling lazily around the edge of the meadow.

Then Ztar got up and headed out on the trail toward the waterfall. That beckoned to him. The cascading water felt powerful and defiant. As he approached, the sound became deafening and the mist was cool on his skin. The Turzent Emperor stood looking up the cliff face where the waterfall began its 800-foot plunge.

For a brief moment, he thought about Archangel's 30,000-foot plunge that nearly ended in catastrophe and the defiant spirit that told Ztar to go fuck himself. He smiled at that memory – not many people had dared talk to him like that since his rise to power. In hindsight, Ztar thought it felt strangely good that Archangel had cursed him like that. It had verbally stripped him of being an emperor and left only the man.

After watching the falls for a while up close, Ztar walked away to admire the waterfall from a quieter distance. He found a good spot by some boulders that made the perfect a natural bench. Likely, they had been placed, but perhaps so many years ago it was now hard to know if man or nature set them there.

To spare surprising the pilot with his telepathy, Ztar used the portable comm to request the food and liquor be brought to his location. Ztar busied himself with unpacking the food tote. The snack was quite a bit more than a snack – gourmet delicacies, fruit, sweets, and of course the Dison. Ztar was certain Sukja had informed the chalet of Ztar and Archangel's shared appreciation for the liqueur. The tote also contained glasses, utensils, and a large ground cloth, just in case a table and chairs were not available. After spreading out the ground cloth, Ztar set out the food and other items.

As Warren lazily circled the meadow, his thoughts began to return to more earth-bound issues. He was making progress with Ztar, but each day was still an internal struggle for Warren. Keeping Ztar shielded from that turmoil was tricky. Thankfully, Ztar was not reading him much anymore, making it much easier to play the role of the happy companion. Palace life was tolerable, sometimes even enjoyable, but Warren's heart still ached for freedom from his burdens, both compulsory and voluntary.

Then Warren saw Ztar unpacking their picnic stuffs and never one to turn away from a meal, Warren set aside the contemplations and swooped in for a landing when he saw Ztar had completed the setting up.

"Looks like a feast!" Warren exclaimed with delight as he alighted nearby, but not too close as to send dirt or anything else flying onto the food.

"Only the best for the Emperor and his companion!" Ztar said lightly.

Warren joined Ztar on the ground and the Turzent poured Dison into glasses that were obviously designed to sit equally well on a table or the ground.

"Clever design!" Warren commented holding up the three-legged glass.

"You enjoyed yourself?" Ztar asked, with a nod to the sky. "This was a good idea?"

Warren looked at Ztar – he seemed almost vulnerable and so wanting to know he had done well.

"This is perfect, Ztar. I couldn't image anything more beautiful than this place. It _was_ a good idea."

Ztar's smile was large and genuine. He so wanted Archangel to have some happy memories of his time with Ztar. Not just the pain-filled ones from the past. If only he had more time to make amends.

The snack was consumed quickly; neither of the men had realized they were as hungry as they were.

"That's what mountain air will do to you," Warren commented as he down the last of his sandwich-like entree.

Getting up off the ground cloth and sitting on the rocks, they sipped Dison leisurely.

"Archangel, you said earlier that I needn't apologize for having read your thoughts four years ago, but I do," Ztar said with some hesitation.

"That was a long time ago…" Warren reminded the Emperor.

"True, but I do need to apologize. For that and for everything! What I did was…it was cruel beyond imagining."

The Emperor was looking down at his glass, not at Warren. Warren remained quiet. He wanted to hear where this was going.

"I had no right to demand what I did of you. There is no excuse for my behavior. No reason that can justify it. I was the monster you said I was," Ztar's voice broke and he stopped to regain his composure. "You have no reason to forgive me, and I don't expect that. Just know I deeply regret how I treated you. If I could go back in time…" He paused again, swallowing hard.

And then the words began to tumble out quickly as Ztar looked into Warren's face. "I apologize, Archangel, for all of it. For hurting you and making you cry and nearly destroying your beautiful spirit. And for taking you from your home and family. I don't deserve the kindness you've been showing me! Why you decided what you did, I'll never understand. I don't deserve you..." Ztar's voice gave out and he could say no more. Tears fell unashamedly down the Emperor's face.

Warren placed his hand on Ztar's arm. Was Ztar one step closer to letting Warren go? He remembered Moit'de's words: "Ztar planted in bad soil long time. Too much hurt and hate. Ztar not love self – feel unworthy. Selfish many years trying to fill void."

"Ztar, you _do_ deserve kindness. The person you were four years ago is not who you are now. Back then, you were desperately trying to fill a void that _couldn't_ be filled by others. It made you do things you wouldn't have otherwise. That void – that kind of hurt – can only heal from within. And look how far you've come! You're changing your bad soil into good soil, as Moit'de would say."

Ztar considered Archangel's words as he steadied himself. In those words, he heard echoes of Sukja, Atichi, and Moit'de, though the feeling that came with the words was all Archangel.

"You've come so far that now, when you look back, it seems terrible. But that's good, don't you see? It tells you how much you've changed," Warren finished with a smile.

Ztar looked at his beautiful companion and nearly told him he was free – right then and there. Despite what Archangel had just said, he hadn't come so far that he could let go of Archangel quite yet. He selfishly wanted just a few more days with his beloved. Ztar leaned over to kiss Archangel gently and then leaned back.

"I do love you, Archangel. I know you don't love me and that will never be. But if you could find it in your heart to at least like the person I'm trying to become…it would mean much. Though if you can't, I understand…"

"I am very proud of the person you're becoming, Ztar," Warren offered.

It wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear, but it was close enough. Ztar drew Archangel into an embrace and held him tightly. "You are more precious to me than you can possibly know. I don't know what I'd be without you!' Ztar was quiet for a moment. "Actually, I do. I'd still be that monster," the Emperor finished, releasing Archangel from his embrace.

What Warren wanted to hear he didn't. He wanted Ztar to say that Earth and he would be free. To Warren, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Ztar wasn't ready for that yet. Warren speculated that Ztar was trying to make amends to smooth the way for what was to come – his decision to keep Warren with him. But Warren would stick with his own decision of five weeks ago – one could read progress with Ztar into this conversation if so inclined. And Warren chose to be the optimist. Perhaps in time…

"Let's get things picked up," Warren suggested.

On their knees, packing up the remains of the snack, Ztar watched Archangel. The sun at his back caused his golden hair to almost glow and the white feathers to glisten. Heat rose in him. Ztar would never get over the powerful effect Archangel had on him – the raw desire the mere sight of the human generated.

Everything was back in the tote except the ground cover they knelt on. Ztar moved closer to Archangel and pulled him into a kiss, gently at first, then more passionately.

"I want you…" the lusty words came into Warren's ear.

"Here?" Warren wasn't comfortable with that idea.

Ztar moved his hands over Archangel's back to the wing base, where he knew he could kick-start the human's desire. He was rewarded when Archangel took a small, sharp inhale.

'God, Ztar knows my body well!' Warren told himself as he felt the near instant heat in his body as Ztar's fingers plied their skill in just the right spots.

"Yes, here – if you're willing." Ztar's eyes had taken on that desire-filled look that Warren knew so well. There likely wasn't any dissuading the Emperor.

"The pilot…" Warren reminded.

"Will stay where he is," Ztar countered.

"The guards."

"Trained not to see this sort of thing," Ztar smirked.

Warren had never liked to have sex out in the open, preferring to be more secluded, safe – less vulnerable. Was that his feral side fearing predators that might take advantage of a distracted prey? It really didn't matter the cause, it just made him nervous.

"It…makes me…uncomfortable," Warren explained as Ztar continued to kiss and stimulate. Warren found his wings moving in a way to encourage Ztar's hands like they had a mind of their own. Warren's breathing was already beginning to come more quickly. At this rate, his objections would soon become moot.

The empathic connection was sending Ztar undertones of subtle nervousness and a sense of being exposed beneath the mounting desire. Ztar hit the points at the base of both wings again with just the right motion and pressure. Archangel took in a ragged breath and he moaned in pleasure, pressing backward into Ztar's hands.

"You're safe. I will let nothing happen. Trust me…" Ztar reassured as he moved his lips down Archangel's neck to his shoulder and back up again to the sensual mouth.

By the time Ztar's lips met his again, Warren was pretty much beyond caring where they were. A brief, half-hearted curse passed through his thoughts at this alien who could bring his body into lust in less than 60 seconds.

Ztar pressed into Archangel, who was now pinned between Ztar and the boulders. He felt Archangel's body begin to relax into his and the empathic signals told him the objections had passed. Mouth to mouth, tongue entwined with tongue, the desire escalated in both.

Ztar bodily moved Warren and laid him down on the ground cover, their lips never parting. But as Ztar's weight came down on him, sharp pain ran through the wing joints – too much weight, the ground was too hard. The pain caused him to cry out before he could stifle it. Simultaneously, he was back in Drex's cell experiencing that same pain. 'Not now!' part of his mind yelled that was trying to hold onto reality and escape the flashback.

"Archangel!" Ztar had felt the pain through their connection and the fragment of remembered fear from the flashback. He immediately sat up and pulled Archangel into his arms.

Warren clung to Ztar, anchoring himself to the present against the pull of the flashback. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly and the flashback that nearly took him dispelled as quickly as it had formed.

"My Archangel, I'm sorry!"

Warren eased back from Ztar to look him in the face. "Don't apologize, Ztar. It was nothing you did. I'm okay."

"Do you want to go back to the chalet? Perhaps rest for awhile?"

"No, I'm not going to let Drex win, Ztar. I want to enjoy the rest of the afternoon here – with you." Warren combed his fingers through Ztar's hair. "But this time, you need to be on the bottom – the ground's too hard for me to be on my wings. Warren gave Ztar one of his flirtatious smiles and Ztar responded as Warren knew he would; Ztar was helpless to resist when Warren offered himself.

And so it was Ztar beneath this time, Archangel's wings spread as Ztar loved them. The sunlight at Archangel's back made the translucent feathers glow and he marveled once again at the magnificence of this man that had chosen to be his willing companion despite everything. And over the next hour, Ztar did everything in his power to reward that decision.

###

During dinner that night, Ztar and Warren shared more stories of their childhood and young adulthood. Some stories made them laugh, others were laced with sadness or anger. But they both learned much about each other through those tales. Warren's life of privilege and loving parents contrasted sharply against Ztar's life of poverty, a brutish father, and an emotionally detached mother.

Sipping Dison, Warren and Ztar watched the sun set over the valley from the private balcony. The colors were spectacular and they were mesmerized as their intensity grew, then slowly ebbed. That night, Ztar slowly, leisurely made love to his companion, taking his time with every movement. Nothing was urgent or hurried. He delighted in the subtleties and relished each sensation.

'I could live in this moment forever!' he told himself. Ztar nearly came to tears thinking about never being with Archangel again. He pushed the despair down. 'Don't spoil this!' he reprimanded himself.

Warren hadn't experience anything quite like that night. Ztar drew him in wholly. No mental immersion or psychic melding – it was all physical and it was incredibly good. 'If I wasn't straight, I might be in love right now,' he considered. The thought was unexpected and Warren wasn't quite sure what to make of his reaction. He didn't analyze it, he simply went with it.

###

The next morning brought much cooler weather. The room was chilled from the open window and Warren woke, already snuggled to Ztar for warmth – the Turzent's body gave off quite a bit of heat.

"Good morning, my Archangel," Ztar said pulling his companion closer, if that were possible.

"Morning," Warren answered lazily without opening his eyes. He didn't want to get up in the chilly room. Just then the fireplace kicked on. Warren opened his eyes and watched the flames dance.

"Let's stay here while the room warms up," Ztar suggested, and he pulled Archangel on top of him even more. Archangel spread his wings across the bed like a blanket. 'By the gods, he's so beautiful!' Ztar remarked silently with an ache in his chest, stroking an outstretched wing. 'So little time left.'

Now chest to chest, Warren looked down into the gold-flecked eyes. He thought about how much those eyes had changed since the first time he saw them. Four years ago, they were hard and menacing. All that mattered then to Ztar was satisfying his own overwhelming need and desire. The pain he inflicted was simply the price to be paid to satisfy those needs. But no more.

"Ztar?"

"Yes, my Archangel," Ztar replied sliding his hand along Warren's upper arm.

"I do like the person you're becoming – that you've become," Warren felt driven to say it, as if he had no choice.

Moisture immediately sprung into Ztar's eyes. 'By the gods, my Archangel, if only you knew how much more painful you've made my decision with those words!' his soul and heart cried out, but aloud he replied in a whisper, "Thank you, my love."

That was new – 'my love.' Warren smiled down at the Emperor, as Ztar's arms tighten around him. The Emperor was making emotional progress and Warren was pleased. He laid his head back down, tucked against Ztar's neck. And they waited for the room to warm without any more words.

The day was spent exploring the trails of the chalet grounds, despite the cooler weather that hinted of winter. It was a bit chilly for Warren to spend a lot of time in the air, so he stayed mostly with Ztar on the ground. They sat for a long time on the deck near the outdoor fireplace, sipping a Sat'rey sanui recommended by the chef. They talked for hours about everything and nothing. Sometimes they didn't talk at all, but just walked or watched the fire.

All too soon, late afternoon approached and they were scheduled to return to the palace. Warren found himself wishing they had more time. That both surprised and concerned him – what was this slope that Warren was possibly slipping down? He turned away from the question; it'd keep for another day to be examined.

As the shuttle came in for a landing at the palace, Ztar took Archangel's hand into his. "Thank you for these past two days. I will cherish them always!"

###

It was waiting for him when he and Archangel returned to the palace from the mountains, but he had refused to read the message until the next morning.

Now the morning following their return, the final version of the constitution stared back at Ztar through his PI. Final version! He had worked and waited months for this moment. The document was solid and well written. It ensured a blend of imperial and democratic rule that mirrored the Shi'ar form of government that had been its inspiration, yet blended in the best of several other ideologies and governmental forms. Ztar felt, perhaps prejudiciously, that the document was truly a marvel. His ultimate voice and right as Imperial ruler, and those of his successors, were protected, yet tempered and balanced with the rights of the people to self-govern on a practical basis.

But the final version came with a price. He must decide on the fate of Earth. The warning stated that if Earth was not to be freed from the Turzent-Earth Accord, special Imperial powers would need to be added to enforce that Accord. And if that were to be the case, several other areas of the constitution would need to be modified, perhaps with undesirable results.

The warning was sternly worded. Procrastination was no longer an option. Ztar needed to decide before anything could move forward. And there was mounting pressures to move forward with Ztar's promise of a new constitution. Delay could be interpreted negatively.

Ztar's soul was in anguish.

###

That night, Ztar was definitely agitated. Warren wasn't sure what to do. Things had been so pleasant at the chalet. Now dinner here was less than enjoyable with Ztar's edginess coming through in every topic Warren attempted to discuss. Ztar said he received the final version of the constitution and Warren tried to bring out some enthusiasm in Ztar on that topic without much success. If Ztar was so upset as to downplay this historic moment, then something was very wrong. And now in the bedchamber, nothing Warren did was what the Emperor wanted. Ztar didn't say that, but his manner and attitude conveyed his discontent. Ztar would start to enjoy himself, but then pull away as if it were too painful. Warren was at his wits end.

"Ztar, what's going on? Just _tell_ me!" Warren finally demanded as the two sat up in bed, Ztar once again bringing things to a halt. It was exasperating!

"I'm not in the mood," came the gruff reply.

"Not in the mood for sex or talking?"

"Either." Ztar rose from the bed and headed toward his liquor storage to pour a drink.

The elephant in the room demanded attention.

"Ztar, if this is about Earth and the constitution, please, let's just deal with it," Warren implored.

Ztar would not place the burden of his anguish at Archangel's feet. Ztar could tell Archangel what the choice was and perhaps manipulate Archangel into saying he'd stay so Ztar would free Earth under the constitution. But Ztar just couldn't bring himself to do that to his beloved companion. No, he and he alone had to do the choosing. And knowing his decision would be required tomorrow, being with Archangel tonight was simply too painful.

"There's nothing to discuss. I'm just tired." Ztar said without much conviction.

Warren watched Ztar closely. He had not seen Ztar this upset before. Warren could press the Emperor further, but he wasn't sure that was wise. Ztar appeared to need some space.

"Perhaps I should go to my own chambers for tonight," he offered gently.

Ztar didn't look at Archangel when he replied, "Perhaps that would be best." His companion would see him fighting back the tears if he dallied much longer.

Warren pulled on his nightwear bottoms and left without another word.

Ztar swore to himself, slamming his hand down on the counter with so much force it cracked. "I can't lose you, Archangel! I won't survive!" he roared to the empty room and sank to the floor, his hand gripping the edge of the counter.

Ztar cried as he held tight to the counter. His heart and soul were torn and bleeding. His dream for a new empire he would not jeopardize. Too much was at stake – a brighter future of billions upon billions of lives rested on that new beginning. And to remain true to that future, he must free Earth. It meant he was going to lose Archangel, of that he was certain. The very thought was more than he could bear.

But not freeing Earth would be an act of open hypocrisy and could deeply shake the people's faith in his new empire and its vision. After all, if Ztar kept one world under the threat of servitude, why not others? And if it were learned that he did so only for his own personal gratification, then all would be lost!

Desperation gripped him once again. There _had_ to be another way! Perhaps Stjarmas'de's suggestion of an alternative legal recourse? Or Ztar could control Archangel with telepathy. Or Ztar could simply not allow Archangel off the planet and hold him at the palace.

'By the gods, those are not options! Archangel would hate me beyond hatred!' the Emperor sobbed.

He had gone over and over every possible option innumerable times. The ultimate answer never changed. To preserve his dream, he must revoke the Accord, and let Archangel go. The full irony of the role reversal hit him squarely for the first time.

Ztar's world and life were crumbling. It felt as those his very soul was being ripped out of him. The powerful ruler who had forged an empire from sheer will and his own strength was not able to hold on to the one person that now made it all worthwhile.

Something stopped Warren in his tracks as he walked through his chambers. A feeling of desperation and emotional pain washed over him causing momentary dizziness. What was going on? Where was that coming from? _Ztar_? It wasn't telepathic – maybe empathic? But that hadn't happened before – Warren had never picked up empathic feelings from Ztar. He was confused about the how, but was certain the emotions were Ztar's. And if correct, Ztar was in emotional crisis.

Tomorrow, he'd give the law-writer his answer. Tomorrow, Ztar would free Earth. Tomorrow, he would lose his Archangel forever. Head resting against the cabinet and his hand still in a death grip on the counter's edge, Ztar let the anguish engulf him. The emotional torment was so great that it was physical, and he curled his naked body against the pain. His cries were violent and shook his body to its core.

Suddenly, a figure knelt down beside him and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Ztar, what is wrong?!" it whispered urgently.

It was Archangel. His precious, soul-saving Archangel. Ztar wrapped his arms around his beloved as if his very life depended on never letting go. In Ztar's mind, it did.

Ztar's emotions nearly swept Warren up into their turmoil. The need was so desperate, so intense!

"It's okay, Ztar," Warren tried to reassure. "I'm here."

"Please don't leave me! _Please_!" he choked out the words into Archangel's golden hair. "I cannot bear to lose you. I-I won't survive!" Ztar gripped and clutched at Archangel, nearly crushing him in the embrace.

There was only one reason Ztar would fear losing Warren – he was going to release Earth from the Accord. It had to be!

Ztar's choice – free Earth, free Archangel, and preserve his dream of a new empire, or guarantee Archangel's continued companionship with Earth as the hostage and risk destroying the very foundation of that dream. But there really wasn't a choice and it was ripping the Emperor apart.

Warren's choice – stay with Ztar and finish what he had chosen to start or leave Ztar, possibly leaving behind an inconsolable leader of the Empire that Earth happened to be part of. But Warren _did_ have a choice.

Ztar was in crisis and Warren's instinct told him he needed to make that choice now. Moit'de words came back to him. Was Warren here for a purpose? Had that purpose been fulfilled? Warren's heart said no. As Warren struggled, it felt as if the universe was holding its breath waiting for the choices to be made. But which choices would be made tonight? He braced himself.

"Ztar, if you free Earth, I promise I will stay with you." Warren trembled as the words were spoken. There, it was said. Earth was free, and Warren wasn't.

'My god, what have I just _done_??!' was his next thought. For a moment, he thought he'd be sick. Actually uttering the words made the decision a reality he wasn't sure he could live with. But it had been said – the vow had been made. The combined onslaught of Ztar's emotions joined his own was too much, and Warren began to cry himself.

It took a few moments for the words to process. '_What_ had Archangel said?' Ztar didn't believe he could have heard correctly. "I promise I will stay...?" That couldn't be right, could it? Yet he felt Archangel tremble. Ztar was a confused mix of juxtaposed emotions. He pushed Archangel back gently to be able to look into his face. Ztar focused on the empathic connection with his companion. Trepidation and even nausea flowed from Archangel.

"My Archangel, _what_ did you say?!" his voice was shaky and uncertain.

Tears ran down Archangel's face and he had a hard time looking Ztar in the eyes. Ztar watched as his companion swiped at the tears. The Emperor did not push; he waited for Archangel to regain his composure.

Warren dug deep for everything ounce of strength he possessed and calmed himself. Then he looked into the eyes of the man that he had just willing bound himself to. But there would be no more weight of Earth on his shoulders. No more threat to the billions of lives he had protected for four long years. There would only be his promise holding him to the Emperor. His _choice_ to stay.

He drew in a shaky breath. "I will stay with you. I give my word – I will not leave you. Let your new Empire mean the same for all worlds, Earth included."

Warren chose, yet the universe still held its breath.

Ztar still had a hard time believing what he heard. He softly wiped away the errant tears escaping from his companion's eyes.

"You will stay?" Ztar asked again to be certain.

"Yes," Warren answered with a single nod.

But Ztar needed Archangel to know it wasn't a question of trading his freedom for Earth's. Ztar had already made that decision. He could not allow Archangel to feel he had to stay to gain Earth's freedom – that would be servitude based on deception. Ztar wanted Archangel to understand he truly had a choice, even if that meant Ztar would lose him.

The Emperor gathered himself. Archangel's answer to his next question would either cause him the greatest joy of his life or its greatest despair. But it had to be asked. Ztar pulled together every ounce of courage he possessed.

"If I say… If I tell you I had already decided to release Earth from the Accord…that you were free to go, would your answer be same?" Ztar held his breath. It felt as though his very life hung in the balance.

Warren was shocked at the question. That was not expected.

"Earth is _free_?!" Warren wanted be sure he understood correctly. "_I'm_ free?!"

"Yes, my Archangel. Nothing holds you here any longer." Ztar said as a knife blade penetrated his heart.

The Emperor was actually willing to let Warren go? Warren hadn't believed Ztar was capable of that kind of sacrifice, at least not yet! Warren had difficulty accepting it. He was free? That changed everything!!

Ztar was in agony as Archangel contemplated. The change in Archangel's eyes as understanding dawned was dramatic. He was certain Archangel would change his mind. Why not? Ztar wasn't delusional; he knew Archangel didn't love him. So why _would_ he stay? He prepared himself to hear the words he dreaded.

Or did it change anything? Warren already told Ztar he would stay, so did the question really carry the same risk it would have before Warren's vow? Warren didn't break promises easily – something Ztar should know from his previous telepathic probings. But again, a promise made without all the critical facts could be considered tenuous. And it did sound like Ztar was willing to release Warren from that promise.

'Let's be certain about this,' Warren warned himself. "I can leave tomorrow – the Accord is no more? What I just promised doesn't hold me here?"

"_Nothing_ holds you here, my Archangel. Earth is free. You are free." Ztar spoke barely above a whisper, his voice shaky.

And so the universe had its first answer – Ztar freed Warren.

_Free?_ Could this be real? Ztar said it was so and Ztar did not lie. It had to be real. Free!! God, it was like a dream come true! After four-plus years, finally and completely free! The relief was indescribable. Warren closed his eyes and let it sink in – no weight, no burden, no bondage. Tears of relief overtook the tears of self-imposed bondage.

"Thank you, Ztar," he said softly without opening his eyes.

Ztar felt tremors running through Archangel's body as an overwhelming sense of relief flowed to Ztar through their empathic connection. While Archangel's soul rejoiced, Ztar's soul was dying. He wasn't sure he could handle much more – the pain was too great. His own body shuddered.

When Warren felt Ztar quake, he opened his eyes and looked into Ztar's. The pain he saw was heart-wrenching. Warren could hardly look at the Emperor his face was so filled with despair.

Then Warren found himself replaying the reasons he had decided to go into willing bondage. His first choice five weeks ago to help heal Ztar by becoming his willing companion seemed to have had the right affect. Ztar's treatment of Warren had become steadily more of what Warren would describe as that of a healthy relationship. Ztar was far less selfish – less focused on his needs and more on Warren's and the relationship. And now, Ztar was willing to let Warren go – the biggest step of all! Mission accomplished.

Or was it? The image of Ztar near emotional breakdown at the thought of Warren leaving was disturbing. Could Warren sacrifice a little longer to help ensure a stable, emotionally whole leader for the sake of the Empire, which just happened to include Earth? The dream Ztar was making reality affected billions of lives. To have a stable Emperor at the helm during the transition would be critical. The very idea of a distraught and possibly depressed Ztar leading that effort in the coming months was not comforting. The dream needed Ztar's total focus, strength, and vision. The inner circle was important, but Ztar's leadership would be vital. Warren believed in Ztar's dream – the people of the Turzent Empire deserved it. If Warren chose not to stay for the man, he could choose to stay for the dream. His pragmatic side told him to stay.

And, surprisingly, his heart told him to stay, even if just a while longer. What would it hurt? Warren was not necessarily fully happy here, but he was comfortable. Ztar did love him; that he knew. And if Warren cared to admit it, he liked the new person Ztar was becoming, as he had told Ztar less than two days ago. With each step the Emperor took toward healing that Warren could take even some credit for, he found it rewarding. And finally, most important, Earth was safe and Warren was now free to return there at any time.

All the words of wisdom from Sukja, Moit'de, and Atichi reverberated in his mind. Warren had followed that advice and by helping Ztar he had reached _his_ ultimate goal and more quickly that he could have dared imagine. Like Atichi and Mandric in "Times Ago," Warren's time in servitude was over. At last, he was free to _choose_! And finally, Warren's last conversation with Moit'de about being in Ztar's life for a purpose. Warren's soul said the purpose was not yet fulfilled.

Warren took another deep breath and let it out slowly. He looked directly into the eyes of the anguished man in front of him.

"Ztar," Warren placed his hand on the Emperor's trembling shoulder, "my answer is the same. I will still stay. I _am_ staying with you." And with the words, Warren felt stronger than he had in a long time. And he knew, for the time being at least, it was the _right_ decision.

The universe had its second answer – Warren chose to stay and it breathed once again.

"You're _staying_? But I don't- Why?" Ztar shook his head as if to clear it. "You're staying?"

"Yes." Warren managed a small smile to reassure the Emperor he was hearing correctly.

Words could not express Ztar's emotions. It was like new life washing through him. The feeling was beyond euphoria and it sank deep into his soul. It was glorious and magnificent and radiant and joyful!

Warren was rocked by the powerful feelings sweeping over him from Ztar. It was similar to his most joyous, rapturous flights in the skies. It was freedom and ecstasy combined into an emotion that there was no word for.

Ztar's lips trembled as they touched Warren's the brief moment before they took in Warren's mouth. The kiss was passionate and filled with so much emotion that Warren was dizzy from it. Ztar's arms ever so gently encircled Warren, a hand coming up between his wings to anchor the back of his head in the kiss.

Archangel slid his hands up Ztar's back to his shoulders to hold tight. Ztar nuzzled his companion's neck and ear before returning to the sensual lips. He felt the heat building in his body and hoped it was the same for Archangel. In a swift movement, he had an arm around Archangel's waist such that he could lift him off the floor enough to slide his other arm under the human to carry him as Ztar rose from the floor. The bed was only a few strides away for the tall Emperor.

Ztar leaned down to kiss his companion's eyes. Archangel's lashes were still moist from tears. He wanted to kiss away all reasons for tears. To protect Archangel from anything that may ever cause him to cry again.

"I love you more than life!" the Emperor proclaimed.

If Archangel was inclined to reply, Ztar prevented it with an intense kiss. Despite the heat of the moment, Ztar knew Archangel did not love him. Would that gulf between them ever be bridged? He swept all such thoughts aside. He wouldn't let them spoil this time with his beloved companion.

Ztar gently explored and titillated Archangel's body. He restrained his strength, and right now it didn't seem such a hardship. "Let the subtle sensations bring joy," Archangel had suggested to him in an earlier encounter after they had talked about Ztar's frustrations with having to hold back. The Emperor tenderly moved his hands over Archangel's chest and wings, focusing on the subtleties – smoothness of skin, silky texture of feathers, and firmness of muscles. He hoped to repeat the wonder of their night together at the chalet.

As Ztar continued to caress him, Warren spread his wings across the bed, giving the Emperor access to as much of them as he desired. The Emperor responded, pressing his hands into the wings, moving fingers gently between the feathers to the membrane beneath; then slowly, sensually combing his fingers down the length of the delicate structures. The motion sent waves of pleasure through Warren, and he moaned softly, closing his eyes. Ztar could do things to his wings that no one else had ever done, and that alone almost drove him to orgasm.

"Again!" Warren asked in a desire-filled voice, barely aware what he vocalized.

Ztar repeated the combing technique that obviously brought Archangel intense pleasure and again his companion moaned, his back arched slightly, and the wings rose slightly against the Emperor's hands. Ztar followed that by playing his lips over the Archangel's chest and wings. Ztar focused completely on the sensations of skin and feather – they were interpreted differently by his lips than his hands; more heightened and refined.

After Ztar had explored a second time with his lips, Warren pulled the Emperor's face to his, brushing their lips together and inviting him in. Ztar didn't need to be encouraged further and he plunged in for intoxicating kiss.

Ztar pulled slightly away and then teased Archangel's mouth, brushing lips against lips, a flick of the tongue, a nip of teeth. While his mouth was occupying Archangel's, Ztar hands were roaming further down Archangel's torso, suggestively close to where Ztar eventually wanted this to go. Again a moan and arching of the back told Ztar he'd hit the right spots. Then Archangel had apparently had enough of the mouth teasing, and he held Ztar's head still with his hands and took in the Turzent's mouth in a demanding kiss. Then a few quick yanks by Ztar's strong hands and Archangel's nightwear lay in tatters on the floor.

Ztar pressed his groin harder against Archangel's. He continued to excite Archangel's body, which in turn excited his own. Archangel's response became ever more urgent. At the same time, Archangel continued to build desire in Ztar with a knowing of Turzent's body from four years of experience. But Ztar felt this may be the first time that Archangel fully used that knowledge, even since his decision to be a willing bedmate. Tonight was a different Archangel – it was hard to explain. But explaining wasn't a priority for Ztar right now.

Warren plied skill how and where he knew it would bring the most pleasure to Ztar. Despite having told himself weeks ago that he would be Ztar's willing companion, he still had struggled unless Ztar helped suppress what was getting in the way. Tonight he felt he was able to push through those barriers on his own for the first time. The result was less technical manipulations and more instinctual and sensual. All a little hard to explain, but explaining wasn't Warren's focus. Pleasuring Ztar was.

Conscious thought began to melt away in both, overridden by the passionate fever that was building at a rapid pace. Their bodies vibrated with desire and anticipation. Fire ran through their veins as they took in the pleasures each was bringing to the other. This was far more intense than the night at the chalet and they were completely engulfed in it.

Warren's desire was almost too much for him. He wanted Ztar to enter him and bring the release that his body was demanding. His hands gripped Ztar's arms so strongly even the tough Turzent body might be bruised.

"Now, Ztar – _please_!" the words escaped Warren's lips that he had never believed he would utter.

Through the lusty fog, Ztar's mind registered the words and they were like an answer to his prayers. His Archangel asking for Ztar to take him, unprompted by telepathy, by a threatened Earth, or suppression of aversion!

Ztar was gentle as he slid into Archangel, and his companion moaned in pleasure. A little at a time, not too hurried to give Archangel's body time to adjust. 'Cause no pain!' Ztar reminded himself. It was difficult – he so wanted to thrust hard and deep, but not at Archangel's expense. This encounter was too perfect to ruin now. As he continued with care, Ztar found that his own pleasure was greater, more paced, and lasted longer. After several gentle entries, he was fully inside and then he could turn some of his focus back to himself and enjoy the wondrous sensation of plunging in and out of his beloved.

In spite of all the reasons that Warren shouldn't be enjoying this, he was. Ztar caused no pain this time. There had always been at least some pain. Heat ran through Warren and the ecstasy increased. And when Ztar fully thrust into him, he thought he would cum at any moment. His body wanted more! The feel of Ztar inside him without pain was bringing him closer to climax. In. Out. In. Out.

"Please…more!" escaped his lips, and Ztar was happy to fulfill the request. And when Ztar finally released inside him, Warren felt the hot fluid flow and that was the last trigger his body needed for his own release. And still he didn't want it to end! After four years, Warren had gained greater control over that mysterious energy that flowed from somewhere deep inside him. He conjured that energy now and it flowed up and through him to Ztar with the desired results.

Just as Ztar thought he might not be able to bear more pleasure, his Archangel gave even more, blessing him by releasing the rapture and ecstasy from that mysterious source that was his aura or soul or something different altogether – Ztar didn't care. He only knew that it was the most precious of gifts Archangel could give. And this night, he gave it freely.

Ztar and Warren trembled and moaned from the waves of rapturous ecstasy that enveloped them just as their orgasms began to fade, in effect drawing out the wondrous sensations longer and at a deeper level than possible without it.

When the afterglow of the orgasms and rapturous energy faded, both men were exhausted but happy. Archangel's head rested on Ztar's chest, wings spread around them, and Ztar stroked the golden locks and white feathers until Archangel drifted off.

Ztar smiled. This night was the most blissful and beautiful the Emperor had ever experienced with Archangel, or any lover in his lifetime. Yet in retrospect, he felt the emotional fulfillment transcended even the physical. It was as if Archangel was healing his very soul – replacing the darkness with light and warmth. And Ztar was in awe of the wondrous human that had promised stay with him by his own choosing. Still smiling, Ztar let himself drift off.

###

Early the next morning, Ztar sent word that the final version of the constitution was acceptable as written and that the Turzent-Earth Accord was to be null and void with its ratification. The relief was enormous.

As soon as all of Ztar's inner circle gave the constitution their blessing, it would be ratified. If just one of them had an objection, another draft would be required. But once ratified, the only question would be its enactment date. Much had to be done yet in preparation for that day, but Ztar wanted it to be soon – his people had waited long enough.

With the communication sent to Stjarmas'de, Ztar smiled to himself thinking back on the prior evening. Archangel had made a choice that would forever change Ztar's life. He had decided to stay, even without the Accord. Ztar could not image how life could be more perfect – his beloved companion at his side and his new Empire on the threshold of becoming actuality. It almost was too much to accept as real!

Ztar's next tasks were his daily meetings with his liaisons and then with Sukja. The liaison meeting he rushed as much as possible as it was his briefing with Sukja that he wanted to get to. The meeting still went longer than Ztar hoped. Many reports in connection with the governmental change – problems, issues, and challenges. But Ztar was so happy that morning, he was in no mood for bad news.

"And why is it that I only hear the bad news?" he asked his liaisons. Then Ztar told them that from now on he wanted to hear some positive reports, also.

Finally, his meeting with Sukja was next. Today, Ztar felt young again and full of feisty energy. He had carefully planned how he was going to share the news. Now if could only pull this off, he thought with a mischievous smirk.

"Good morning, Sukja," he greeted his aide with little enthusiasm.

"Good morning, my Emperor. Is all well?" Sukja had immediately picked up on the solemn tone.

"I told Stjarmas'de this morning to go ahead with the constitution as written. We now just wait to hear from the rest of my advisors. If all goes well, it will be ratified by day's end." Ztar kept his voice and posture reflective of sadness.

Sukja was now very much concerned. The Emperor was definitely not happy, and Sukja thought he knew why.

"And your decision regarding Earth?" he ventured carefully.

"I told the Counselor the Accord is void as soon as the constitution is ratified," Ztar bowed his head and gripped the edge of his desk.

Sukja sucked in a breath. He nearly didn't want to ask the next logical question, but felt he must since Ztar wasn't offering the information.

"Does Archangel know?" Sukja asked as gently as he could.

"Yes, Sukja, he does. I told him my decision to release Earth last night. He made his decision very quickly," Ztar nearly whispered the reply, not looking at his aide.

Sukja was confused. He was having a hard time with Ztar's reaction – it wasn't the despair Sukja would have expected if Archangel was leaving, but he _was_ obviously upset. Was the Emperor in shock? In denial?

Sukja rose, walked around the desk to Ztar's side, and knelt beside him.

"My Emperor – Ztar…Archangel is not staying? Is that what you're telling me?"

"No, Sukja." Ztar smiled inside – Sukja had asked two questions and Ztar answered truthfully to one. But he wouldn't let this deception go on too long.

"Ztar, I am sorry beyond words…"

Ztar looked at the pained expression on Sukja's face and the eyes that were filling with tears. He would end this now. When Ztar smiled, his eyes twinkled.

Sukja was at first baffled, but he'd had always been quick on his feet. He realized had asked the Emperor two very different questions.

"My Emperor," he said suspiciously, "you answered my second question, didn't you?"

"Sukja, I am the most blessed Turzent alive! Archangel said he would _stay_!" Ztar nearly burst from saying the news aloud.

The Ozjaerian wasn't sure he heard correctly. "Archangel is staying? Even without the Accord?" Sukja didn't think that was possible. First and foremost, Archangel was not homosexual or even bi-sexual from everything Ztar had told him. And Archangel's goal has always been to be freed. Why would he stay?!

"I don't know the full reasons, but he promised to stay. He will keep his word, Sukja, I know him!" Ztar was on his feet and Sukja joined him. Ztar embraced the still perplexed Sukja.

"My Emperor, I am speechless."

"That may be a first!" Ztar held Sukja by the shoulders, laughing.

"Archangel actually said he was staying – with _you_. Not just here on Sat'rey." Sukja wanted to be very sure the Emperor had not misunderstood. If he had, it could be devastating.

Ztar realized that Sukja doubted he had understood Archangel correctly.

"Sukja, believe me – Archangel is staying _here_ with _me_ at the palace. His exact words I'll remember always, 'I will still stay. I _am_ staying with you.' And Sukja, we made the most wonderful love after. Not sex, Sukja! It was so much more! I have never experienced anything so powerful!"

"He said this _after_ you said you would free Earth?"

"Yes, Sukja. I told him the Accord was void and released him from it. I was very clear. And he still said he'd stay! I do believe in miracles today!" Ztar so wanted Sukja to share his joy. But this wasn't playing out as Ztar had thought, and he was feeling let down.

Sukja shook his head. It was still hard to fathom. Archangel giving himself fully to the Emperor while under the Accord was one thing, but this? Sukja hadn't once caught a hint that the human was seriously contemplating such a step. He knew Archangel had been wrestling with the uncertainties of Earth's status under the new constitution, but Sukja just couldn't connect the dots that would lead Archangel to this decision. Not without Earth in the balance.

So Sukja prayed that Ztar was right – that Archangel was indeed staying with the Emperor. But Sukja wanted to know why. Ztar's emotional wellbeing was too important to be played with if Archangel thought he could make that decision and then later simply up and leave on a whim.

"Sukja, I thought you'd be happy for me."

Sukja heard the hurt in his Emperor's voice. "I am! It's just a shock – although a pleasant one. I'm just trying to take it in."

Ztar could accept that. Archangel's choice _was_ a shock. A beautiful, wonderful, joyous shock! He'd give Sukja time to accept the news. Ztar gave his aide another quick hug.

Leaving Ztar's office, Sukja was still troubled. He hoped he was just being overly protective of the man he'd spent many years and much energy helping to grow and heal emotionally. Perhaps a direct talk with Archangel was in order.

###

Ztar kept his PI next to him the rest of day waiting for word that Stjarmas'de had heard from the rest of his inner circle members. At dinner with Archangel and Sukja that evening in Ztar's chambers, his PI chimed indicating a message from the Counselor.

Ztar stared at the PI but didn't move to activate it.

"Emperor, I believe that's for you!" Sukja chided warmly.

Ztar returned the smile. "It's just potentially such an important message. Is this the day we've anticipated for months?"

"You won't know if you don't pick up the message!" Warren prompted.

Ztar lifted the device and activated the message retrieval. One word said it all – "Ratified."

Archangel and Sukja didn't need Ztar to say anything – his face said it all.

"Congratulations, my Emperor!" Sukja's enthusiasm came through loud and clear.

"My congratulations also, Ztar," Warren added warmly. "It's a magnificent accomplishment!" He was happy for the Empire and its people. Another step toward greater freedoms and controlling their own destinies. And he was happy for Ztar.

"Thank you both. But this is just the beginning – much work lies ahead. The easy part is done!"

"I'll get us some more Dison," Warren offered seeing that the first bottle was nearly empty. He rose from the table and made his way to Ztar's liquor storage.

Archangel grabbed the Dison and turned from the cabinet and directly into Ztar, startled. Ztar had stealthily followed Archangel and approached so close that when Archangel turned, the two were standing toe to toe. Ztar smiled at the look of surprise on the human's face.

Before Warren knew what was happening, Ztar's mouth was on his. It surprised him, but he gave in to the kiss. Ztar pulled him closer, the bottle of Dison squeezed between their bodies. The kiss was passionate and deep and full of longing.

Suddenly, Warren remembered Sukja was in the room. He pulled away sharply. As far as Warren knew, it would be the first time Sukja had witnessed more than a gentle caress between the two men, and he was slightly embarrassed.

"Sukja," he whispered to the Ztar so he'd know why Warren pulled back.

Ztar tipped Warren's chin up and grinned mischievously. "I think he knows we're lovers, my Archangel."

Warren could feel the heat in his cheeks. Then he heard Sukja's gentle chuckle.

"I can leave you two alone if you wish!"

With his arms still around Archangel, Ztar turned to Sukja. "No, let's celebrate together a little longer. And, I'd like to be entertained with some of your stories, Sukja. I can never get enough of them!"

The balance of the evening was spent celebrating the new constitution, Ztar reading the congratulatory messages from his inner circle, and enjoying Sukja's master storytelling. And much later, Ztar and Archangel celebrated in their own way.

###

Stjarmas'de was on the comm and Ztar didn't like what the Counselor was saying.

"So the Accord would remain in effect until Earth comes fully under the Constitution?"

The Counselor nodded affirmatively. "That way, no one can find fault – all treaties and accords will be handled in exactly the same manner. Each remaining in effect until the bound system is transitioned. This is the best approach, my Emperor."

"But I already told Archangel he was free!" Ztar pressed.

"And he is, Emperor, if in actuality you're unwilling to enforce the Accord. That's what I'm understanding you to have said," Stjarmas'de pointed out.

"You understand correctly. I will not enforce the Accord any longer." Ztar sighed. He saw the logic in what his top legal counselor was saying, but he was still disappointed that the Accord would continue at least in the eyes of the law for another year or so. Yet really, what did it matter if no one would enforce it? The Accord became meaningless, just like so many old laws that no longer held relevance.

"Very well, Counselor. I will allow this as long as it is understood the Accord is not to be enforced in any manner."

"Understood, my Emperor."

###


	11. Chapter 11

_Chapter Eleven sees a major event for the Empire unfold while Warren and the Chef brew up a coffee scheme (sorry, couldn't help myself), forcing Warren to tie up a loose end. Then Ztar makes an uncharacteristic blunder that rocks Warren's trust. Enjoy!_

**Chapter Eleven**

A few days after Ztar informed him that the human was staying, Sukja approached Archangel where he sat reading at the far end of reflecting pool.

"May I join you?" he inquired.

"Of course," Warren welcomed, setting his PI aside.

Sukja joined Archangel on the bench. The air was still and the surface of the pool perfectly mirrored the palace.

"I've been meaning to talk with you," he began.

"About?" The human looked at him expectantly. This could be delicate.

"About your decision to stay."

Puzzlement and something else crossed Archangel's face as if to say, 'what is there to talk about – isn't this what everyone wanted?'

"What about it?"

"It's just my need to analyze and make sense of things, Archangel, and I'm hoping you'll help me to understand your decision. When I put myself in your place, I'm not sure I would have made the same choice. It's bothering me that I must be missing something…" he let his voice trail off.

Archangel was reading him carefully Sukja knew. The human was very good at it. Every vocal inflection and every body movement would be measured. Archangel was now sitting perfectly upright, almost in a defensive posture. What was the human sensing in Sukja's manner? Perhaps he should soften his approach a touch more. Sukja made certain everything about him remained open and welcoming, not wanting to project in any way his concerns about Archangel's commitment to the Emperor. He feared driving a wedge between him and Archangel and, in return, between Ztar and himself if Ztar picked up on any tension between Archangel and Sukja.

"It's simple, really. I'm not done here," Archangel said matter-of-factly, as if it were obvious.

Sukja wasn't expecting such the simplistic reply. It took him off guard. Could it really be that uncomplicated? Still, it was a bit much to swallow. Sukja thought quickly back to the conversations he and Archangel had since coming to Sat'rey, about helping Ztar heal and about Ztar eventually learning to love enough to let go.

"But aren't you? Wasn't the goal to get Ztar past possessive love to selfless love – to let you go? Isn't that what he did?"

Archangel turned away from Sukja and focused on the reflecting pool. "It was the goal and he did let me go. You're right about that. But at what price?"

Archangel didn't offer the answer to that question and Sukja didn't want to assume what Archangel meant by price. It was likely the missing piece. "What do you mean?"

"Think about it, Sukja, as I'm sure you have. Ztar decided to release Earth and my bondage to him, but it was too soon. He's not strong enough yet. His soil is still being rebuilt, as Moit'de would say."

"Moit'de?" Sukja was suddenly concerned about what confidences Archangel may have shared with the palace staff member.

"Ztar needs to be strong and focused for the government transition that's coming up. I couldn't leave him now."

Archangel had ignored Sukja's question about Moit'de, which bothered him. But the explanation of why he choose to stay made pragmatic sense. It was the very concern Sukja had when he believed Archangel would not stay. If the human was being truthful, he was far nobler than Sukja would have believed possible.

"Your decision then was based on Ztar still needing you?"

Archangel never turned away from the pool when he asked, "Why is my decision bothering you?"

Sukja could feel the prickly barbs in that question. This was perhaps heading where Sukja had feared.

"Archangel, I'm sorry if I came across that way. It wasn't my intent."

"I know it wasn't your _intent_, but it still bothers you or we wouldn't be talking." The human finally turned to face Sukja, his eyes narrowed slightly. "My intent now is not to offend, but you might be when I ask my next question. Why do I get the feeling that whatever decision I made it wouldn't have been to your liking?"

Now Sukja was on the spot. Answer the question or simply apologize and hope to recover from this? Sukja chose to answer with honesty.

"I worry that your commitment is tenuous. That you may change your mind and leave after raising Ztar's hopes for a life together with you. That you may leave him if he slips backward in his progress, which could happen especially if under heavy stress. Or you leave when something else makes it difficult to stay. Or when your yearning for Earth becomes too strong or on a whim. How strong is your commitment?" Sukja paused, but Archangel remained silent. "I fear that your actions now may hurt Ztar far more than before you made your promise to him. It's no longer about you staying to save your planet. Now this is a vow between you and him. If you break that vow, he will be devastated."

Archangel was quiet for sometime, returning his gaze to the reflections on the water. Sukja did not break the silence. He watched the tension in the human's face.

"You're right, Sukja. That is something I must consider," and Archangel sighed deeply. He turned to face Sukja directly; the eyes a cold blue. "But you are questioning my integrity. I did not make this decision lightly, and I take my commitments _very_ seriously, whether they're forced on me or of my own choosing."

'Oh, those words were meant to sting!' Sukja thought.

Archangel released his lock on Sukja's eyes and looked back out to the reflections in the water. "You of all people should know that."

It was Sukja's turn to sigh. "I should not have doubted your word. I'm being overly protective of the man I've spent years trying to help get to where he is now." Sukja was quiet for a moment. "Thank you for deciding what you did. It was a good decision. I will be forever grateful that you did not abandon our Emperor at this critical time," he offered with a heartfelt smile he hoped would dispel any bad feelings the conversation may have generated in Archangel.

Archangel looked back to watch him briefly and then returned the smile. Sukja could almost see the tension melt from the human's face.

"You're welcome, Sukja. Here is my promise to you. I will do nothing to intentionally hurt Ztar. Eventually, I want to go home when we believe he's ready. Until then, I will work very hard to help him build good soil so he grows even stronger, as our favorite gardener would say."

Another reference to the Moit'de, but Sukja let it go. If Moit'de had encouraged Archangel toward the decision to stay, perhaps he should leave well enough alone.

"You have put my mind at ease. My thanks again." Sukja stood and started toward the palace. Then he stopped short and turned back to Archangel. "Just so you know, one of Ztar's favorite foods this time of year is paurnia dunae. You could ask Delme about it."

###

Warren watched as the Emperor's aide strode toward the palace, his reflection captured by the pool as he neared the building. Warren replayed the conversation as Sukja's image melted away in the water. What should he take away from the Ozjaerian's words?

Sukja seemed protective of the Emperor – that was not unexpected. Sukja had doubted Warren's commitment to Ztar – that was a little surprising. Didn't his decision speak for itself? But if Warren put himself in Sukja's shoes, it made sense. Warren had let Sukja's doubt rile him at first, but once Sukja better expressed his fears, it gave that doubt credence.

Then there was Sukja's response to his mention of Moit'de. Concern escaped from the Ozjaerian's face at the reference. Warren had intentionally reference the gardener again, but Sukja's only reaction that time was in the eyes. Warren knew he likely had crossed a line of propriety in discussing his and Ztar's situation with the gardener, but Moit'de was as close to a friend as Warren had on his alien world. He would not give that up now that their working relationship had moved closer to friendship. On this he would be firm. He would choose who his friends were, not Sukja and not Ztar. Now that he was here of his own choosing, things would be different.

That sudden realization grabbed Warren. He was now here of his own choosing. It hadn't really hit him until that moment. _Of his own choosing!_ Free to choose who his friends would be. Free to do what he pleased, when he pleased. Free to say _no_ to Ztar.

God, why had it taken days for that to sink in?! 'Four years of servitude, that's why,' he answered himself. Four years of having to do as he was told without complaint or question. Four years without choice or a voice.

Warren stood and took a deep breath of freedom. Yes, he _was_ free! He could say no to his Imperial staff appointment. He could say he wanted to get away alone for awhile. He could say he wanted to visit Earth. He could say he wanted his own living arrangements. It didn't mean he wouldn't continue to be Ztar's companion, but it didn't have to be a live-in relationship, did it?

Warren's head nearly swam with choices he hadn't had in four years. He sprang into the sky, feeling light and liberated. He flew high and swooped, dived, somersaulted, and ran through aerial maneuvers with joyous enthusiasm. Things were different now!

###

Far below, Sukja had just entered the Emperor's office and immediately noticed Ztar's attention was elsewhere. "What is it, my Emperor?" he inquired, seeing a slight frown creep across Ztar's face.

Ztar had been hit with intense emotions from Archangel and a brief, reflexive telepathic touch revealed the cause.

"It's Archangel. He's celebrating up in the sky. I think he finally understands how free he is now. And he just realized that 'no' is back in his vocabulary."

"Does that worry you?" Sukja asked, sitting down. He knew this had to happen eventually. The recently freed often take many days to fully comprehend their new status. Some don't adjust well, depending on the length of servitude. Others adapt more quickly regardless of the time that passed.

Ztar hesitated. "Perhaps. I liked our relationship as it was. He never refused me. Now… Our relationship has just changed and in all honesty, I'm not sure how I'll react. What happens the first time he tells me no?"

"Then you will abide by his wishes, my Emperor, for that is part of a loving relationship. There are times when your needs will be placed ahead of his and times when his needs will be more important than yours. Relationships are give and take."

"That's nothing I didn't already know, but I've been spoiled, Sukja! _I've_ always done the choosing of what is more important – his needs or mine. That will no longer be the case."

"That is correct," Sukja agreed simply.

Sukja was glad Ztar had come to this realization. 'It will be interesting to watch Archangel and Ztar redefine their relationship. Rocky times ahead?' Sukja pondered. As always, Sukja would stand by his Emperor whenever he was needed.

"What if we don't agree on what's more important?" The more Ztar considered the turn of events, the more he could image changing between him and his companion.

"Then you will discuss it – maybe even argue. And you will resolve it, just like other people do," Sukja replied smiling. "Ztar, you and Archangel will have to find your own way to work out differences. That's part of building a relationship."

"Sukja, I didn't anticipate this! I'm not sure I know how a real relationship works. It's been a very long time."

"Then perhaps Archangel can help you with that. I'm assuming he's had relationships in the past."

"He has. But not– He did, but with females only. Not with another man. Do you think it will be much different?"

Sukja thought for a moment. "I would guess that all relationships, regardless of the genders involved, face the same basic issues. Beyond that, it's all about the specific individuals involved – male or female."

Ztar stood and walked to the window that overlooked the reflecting pool. "Makes sense," Ztar nodded. It was several seconds before he spoke again.

"Sukja, I'm the leader of a realm that spans hundreds of planets. An empire I forged starting with only my will, cunning, and determination. Why is it this new relationship with Archangel frightens me more than nearly anything I faced when building my empire?!"

Sukja chuckled. "Because this is personal."

"And you'll stand by me when I make my first big mistake and Archangel kicks me out of the bedchamber?" Ztar asked also chuckling.

"My couch is always available – to either of you!"

###

With the ratification, communications personnel were working overtime crafting the media release of the constitution. Its reveal would be the most important document that staff had ever issued and every word needed to be scrutinized. Strategically planned "leaks" allowed for trial balloons to be sent out to test reaction to certain concepts in the release.

Planetary Liaison Myrundra and her large staff were also in overdrive paving the way diplomatically, working their contacts to the fullest. Myrundra's diplomats tested the waters by confiding certain issues with key planetary representatives to gauge reaction.

General Gtar-Cro of Military Intelligence and General Rehsaw of Military Command were prepared for whatever may come – good or bad. Both agencies remained on normal alert status as to not send messages that anything unruly was anticipated, but the upper echelon of both agencies was on high guard just in case.

It was one week after the ratification, and so far so good. The unveiling of the constitution was now just days away and everyone involved was both tense and excited.

###

Warren's realization of what his newfound freedom meant was five days old. As yet, he had changed nothing about his life. He was still Imperial staff and managed the palace staff. He still lived their shared chambers. He still performed many of Sukja's former personal attendant duties. Warren had not yet denied Ztar what he wanted – in bed or otherwise. After thinking about it, Warren had decided to not make any rash decisions or changes for fear of upsetting Ztar's progress, at least for now. When an opportunity presented itself for Warren to exert his rights, he would, but he wouldn't manipulate or create a situation to force the issue.

Ztar's contentment seemed to grow daily, which was exactly why Warren had stayed – a strong, happy, emotionally stable Emperor at the helm during the transition.

"Things are proceeding exactly as planned and on schedule," Ztar replied in answer to Warren's question over breakfast about the upcoming constitutional unveiling. "I couldn't be happier with my staff's performance. When you surround yourself with the best, it pays dividends during times like these."

"Agreed. From a business side, it's the same. Bring in the best people, enable them to do their jobs, and then get the hell out of their way."

"Precisely!" Ztar wholeheartedly concurred.

After several weeks of sharing Ztar's chambers, he still watched Archangel in wonder each morning as he munched on his zante and sipped coffee. How could he be so blessed as to wake every morning with Archangel at his side?

"You make it all worthwhile, my Archangel. You know that, don't you?" Ztar couldn't help himself, he had to say it.

Archangel's crystalline-blue eyes rose to look into Ztar's. Ztar took in the face – such perfection! The eyes he could melt into, the flawless skin, bone structure that most would give much for, and sensual lips all topped off with a thick tousle of wavy hair almost too golden to be natural.

Warren merely smiled at Ztar. He couldn't say the same in return, and knew Ztar didn't expect that – it would be a lie. And in spite of all the things that had happened between the two of them, a lie was never one of those things.

"That's what you _tell_ me," Archangel replied with raise eyebrows as if questioning the truth of the statement.

"It's true!" Ztar pretended to be incredulous that Archangel would doubt him.

"I know," the human grinned at the Emperor.

Ztar loved the brief banter. His day was off to a very good start.

"Today is a busy one. Gtar-Cro, Rehsaw, and Myrundra are coming for a final meeting before the constitution is released," Ztar explained as he rose from the table.

"They are?" That was news to Warren. It wasn't on Ztar's calendar. Why hadn't anyone said anything before now?

"I likely won't be available for lunch today and neither will Sukja."

"I'll find _someone_ to eat with since you're standing me up," Warren kidded as Ztar headed out.

As part of Warren's duties, he continued to meet weekly with the heads of palace staff – Delme, Rja, and Moit'de. Sukja still retained authority over security due to the responsibility for ensuring the safety of the Emperor. Today was Delme's day and Warren looked forward to hearing about the upcoming week from a culinary perspective. Heading down to the lower level, he wondered if Sukja had remembered to tell the chef of the visit today that apparently included lunch.

"Good morning, Chef!" Warren greeted warmly as he entered Delme's office.

"You sound especially cheery today," Delme observed, his voice carrying undertones of irritation.

Warren quickly took his usual spot in the chair near Delme's desk. "Anything I need to know about the coming week? I understand we have guests for lunch."

"And do you think anyone bothered to tell me this a week ago? A couple days ago? Or even yesterday?!" he said gruffly, looking pointedly at Warren.

Warren put up his hands in mock defense. "Hey, I just heard it myself this morning. Three of Ztar's inner circle, from what he said. Apparently, Sukja failed to mention it to either of us. Or it was a last minute decision."

"Last minute my…" the chef didn't finish the thought. "A simple comm message would have been all that was required. But I guess the palace kitchens are yet again expected to create culinary delights spontaneously!"

Warren smiled charmingly. "I would say it's a compliment that Sukja has so much faith in your abilities that the kitchens are not a worry." Warren knew the chef would not buy the argument, but it was part of their game.

"Not a worry or not a priority? Perhaps I should miss a meal, then we'd see how much a priority food is in this palace!"

"Chef, if the palace missed one of your meals, there would be a riot, and I for one would be on the front line."

"Archangel, I _know_ food is a priority for you," Delme finally cracked a devilish smile. "You are one of my most frequent customers."

Warren laughed and Delme joined in. Now that he had the chef in a better mood, Warren proceeded with the business at hand.

"So I can safely assume everything is under perfect control as usual. The Emperor's guests will be delighted as always with their lunch. Anything else I should know?"

"Well, I was wondering if we could bring in more of that coffee from Earth. I'd like to offer it on the menu. It's quite enjoyable. But when I asked Niat about it, he said Earth is not listed as a trading planet. That can't be right? You're from there – Earth is a member of the Empire."

The question caught Warren by surprise. He hadn't thought a great deal about what may change for Earth once the constitution was in place, but it raised questions. Would Earth be forced onto the galactic scene? Or would his isolated little homeworld remain just that?

"It's complicated, Chef. Earth is _within_ the empire, but completely autonomous. Once the constitution is in affect, I'm not sure how that will change."

"Completely autonomous?! How is that possible? No member planet is autonomous in the Empire." The Chef's face revealed his shock.

"It's a long story for another time, Delme."

"One I would love to hear, Archangel. How your homeworld managed something no other planet in the history of the Empire managed – at least not to my knowledge." Delme shook his head in disbelief.

"But if you want to obtain coffee, my business back on Earth could help with that through a private transaction." Warren couldn't help but smile at the chef's request. He'd been sharing his coffee with Delme since it first arrived. The Alcab had become quite a fan of the beverage.

"Your business? It deals in coffee?" Delme was obviously intrigued.

"Not specifically, but it should be possible without too much effort."

Delme eyed Warren carefully. "Archangel, tell me. You are wealthy on your world – very wealthy. Am I correct?"

"You came to that conclusion how?" Warren was somewhat surprised at Delme's correct deduction.

"Many small things. The way you appreciate the finer culinary foods and beverages. The way you hold yourself and how you speak. You are obviously well bred and well educated."

"Sherlock Holmes would be impressed, Chef!"

"Who is that?" Delme looked puzzled.

"Not important, but you are correct – guilty as charged. Born into wealth and now own controlling stock one of the larger corporations in my country."

"Sounds impressive!"

"Not really. Not in context with the Turzent Empire. Earth is a small planet in an isolated part of the galaxy. Nothing to write home about really," Warren concluded. "But it can supply you with coffee!" he smiled infectiously at Delme.

"Then shall we plan how to import that unique beverage that has me looking forward to my first cup every morning?"

"Another coffee addict is born!" Warren laughed and Delme chuckled.

Warren and Delme planned to send a message to Warren's company through Xavier initially. Once the communication channel was open, they'd work directly with Worthington Enterprises for future trades. A courier shuttle would retrieve the shipment on the arranged date and time. Now all Warren had to do was figure out how to get a communication to Xavier, but he'd worry about that and permission for their coffee scheme later. Right now, he had a question for the palace chef.

"Sukja mentioned that one of Ztar's favorite foods is called paurnia something or other."

"Paurnia dunae! Yes, Sukja was right. It's one of Ztar's fall festival favorites."

"Fall festival?" Warren hadn't heard about that one yet.

"Oh, yes. Every year we celebrate. Actually, it's called H'ton Me Rzyr. A very old Sat'rey celebration of the coming of the fall rains."

"When is the celebration?"

"Actually, it begins soon. It seems to have been overshadowed by the new constitution news, though. We normally would have begun preparations this week, but Sukja hasn't indicated that was to be the case. Yet he must be thinking about it since he mentioned the paurnia dunae."

"You normally wait for him to say it's okay to start?"

"It's tradition to wait for word from the Emperor or Sukja. It would be improper to plan a celebration without their permission. That goes way back, Archangel, in our imperial past. I know it seems a little outdated, but we hold tight to some of our traditions," Delme offered with a slight shrug and sheepish grin, as if to apologize.

"No, no. I understand. And everyone looks forward to H'ton Me Rzyr? It's a big deal?"

"Definitely. After the dry, hot season, everyone is ready for cooler weather and the rains. In our past, the rains were seen as a gift from the gods to make the land fertile once again. But this year, the Imperial reception gave us a summer celebration, so many of us thought another celebration in the midst of the new government being formed… Well, let's just say we thought it might be a year without H'ton Me Rzyr at the palace."

"What happens during the celebration?"

"A feast and a ceremony to summon the rains."

"What happens at the ceremony?"

"A fire is lit symbolizing the cleansing of the land in preparation to accept the rains. The festival really doesn't take much time away from the regular staff. Mostly my time in planning the foods and my kitchen's time to prepare the traditional meal for everyone. Moit'de usually takes care of the fire ceremony. Ztar performs the ceremonial calling of the rains."

Warren considered for a moment. "Does it have to be Sukja or the Emperor that gives the green light?"

"Actually, no. It's just they were the only Imperial staff residing at the palace in the past. Actually, any member of the royal court…" and Delme's face broke out into a smile. "_You're_ royal court."

"That I am! Let's begin the preparations quietly. Don't order any food until I've cleared this with Sukja – don't want to overstep my authority. But I don't see any harm in at least making plans, do you?"

"No harm at all," Delme concurred.

"And Ztar's favorite dish is to be on the list of foods."

"Naturally."

"Is there a particular date when the celebration should begin? What about the ceremony?"

"Festival day is by decree, so there's no set date. The ceremony comes at the beginning of the celebration. H'ton Me Rzyr always happens at the end of the dry season and that typically ends between now and the next three to four weeks; just depends on the weather patterns. Those do seem to be shifting already – you've noticed the cooler nights and a change in the humidity levels?"

Warren nodded. "So we need to get going. I'll talk with Sukja today and get back to you."

"Just one more thing," Delme said as Warren started to stand. "Forgive me if I speak inappropriately…"

The Chef's manner suddenly transmitted hesitation. Warren settled back into the chair. "Go ahead, Chef."

"I may not understand your position completely, Archangel…but you _are_ imperial staff. That should mean you are equal to Sukja, but perhaps things are different with you. Normally, as imperial staff, you would go directly to Ztar with the request – not through Sukja. But please, I may be speaking without knowing all facts…"

Warren actually wasn't sure of that fine point, now that Delme brought it up. All during the grand reception, he had reported to Sukja and never questioned whether that should or should not continue after. Ztar had made it clear that Sukja was in charge of the grand reception, but that was a unique event. Something to clarify.

"Thanks, Chef. I'm new to all of this, so I appreciate your observation. One way or the other, we'll get approval for the celebration."

Warren left the Chef's office and exited the lower level of the palace. Just then he saw a shuttle landing through the large grand reception windows, likely signaling the arrival of Ztar's inner circle members.

'Yep, that's General Gtar-Cro,' Warren said to himself. He couldn't help but watch Ztar and the General on the landing pad. They embraced as old friends would. Warren couldn't hear the conversation, but it was interesting to observe the body language between the two men. A subtle submissive stance in Gtar-Cro's posture as he responded to something Ztar said. Ztar's body conveyed confidence, but softened with obvious friendly feelings toward the General. Both men were smiling until Gtar-Cro's shifted his posture and stiffened before speaking again. The Ztar's smile also quickly faded and his body indicated that whatever Gtar-Cro said had piqued his interest in a concerned way.

Just then another shuttle came in for a landing. Gtar-Cro and Ztar appeared to quickly wrap up their conversation before the next visitor joined them. Gtar-Cro stood nearly at attention as General Rehsaw approached. Rehsaw's greeting from Ztar was completely different than Gtar-Cro had received. No embrace here. Turzent's did not shake hands – not a greeting custom for them. A slight bow by Rehsaw and a nod from Ztar completed the greeting ritual for those two men. Ztar and Rehsaw both did smile, but Ztar's smile was not as open and warm as it had been for military intelligence leader.

Warren shifted on his feet, feeling somewhat guilty watching from the far corner of the reception hall. He looked around and no one else was nearby to see him spying on the Emperor. So he remained, anxious to read what he could into the arrival of the head of Planetary Relations, Jharda Myrundra.

The third shuttle settled in. 'Everyone is prompt!' Warren thought, leaning into the wall, crossing his arms. But then again, he couldn't image you'd keep the Emperor waiting.

The three men on the shuttle pad turned toward Myrundra as she walked toward them. Rehsaw's smile was the largest and his body language was friendly. Gtar-Cro seemed relaxed and open to the Myrundra, but Warren couldn't see his face. Ztar seemed genuinely happy to see the only female member of his inner circle. In fact, there was something in Ztar's body language that was almost deferring. Interesting! Myrundra's bow was slightly lower and longer that Rehsaw's. Warren's keen eyesight saw that she looked up at the Emperor through her lashes and smiled, almost flirtatiously, before righting herself.

'This just gets more interesting,' Warren noted to himself.

Warren watched as the foursome made their way inside the palace and down the hall toward the conference room.

He replayed the subtle signals between Ztar and Myrundra. The look she gave Ztar was too personal. It was a private exchange as Rehsaw and Gtar-Cro were to her back and could not see her face. The look was meant for the Emperor and the Emperor alone. There was either mutual interest or they had history. Suddenly, he wanted to know which it was as a pang of something ran through Warren, taking him by surprise. 'Huh?!' He pulled himself off the wall.

'Dear god, if that was jealous! Get a grip, Worthington,' he riled against himself and he strode across the large hall toward the private section of the palace. 'Of all the stupid...'

By the time Warren got back to his chambers, he'd convinced himself the pang couldn't have been jealousy – it didn't make sense. It had to be something else. Intuition or a gut feeling of something not being quite right about Myrundra perhaps? That made much more sense.

He decided to head into the sky. The day was cool and high clouds filtered the sunlight. Unless he wanted to get chilled, Warren would stick to lower elevations. He headed off to the sunset side of the Imperial Valley where for some reason he hadn't ventured as often. Pushing the limits of how far he was allowed to fly without letting anyone know in advance, he rode air currents up and down lazily.

But he just couldn't get into the flight very much. Sometimes that happened. It wasn't what his body and/or soul needed at the moment. Landing on a high point looking out over the Imperial Valley, he let his mind wander back to Earth.

He wondered how the X-men were doing. Was everyone well? How had Xavier taken the news that Warren wasn't coming back? What would happen when Warren sent word to Charles that he needed his help getting coffee of all things? That thought made Warren smile. 'Charles will want to know why tea wasn't also requested,' he mused, remembering fondly the Professor's love with a good cup of hot tea.

Then he remembered the message chip Xavier had sent with the food stocks. It remained unread in Warren's wardrobe drawer. Perhaps…

With a whoosh of feathers, Warren was airborne once again and heading back to the palace.

He dug out the memory-stick like device from beneath the clothes he'd laid over the message from home. He almost had to read it now. It may come up in his dealings with Xavier to obtain the coffee Delme wanted. But it may not. Likely, Warren could limit the contact to a single, one-way communication to the Professor and the topic would never be mentioned. Still…

Warren rotated the chip around in his fingers. What had Xavier needed to tell him how many weeks ago? No, months ago now! God, how time had slipped away. It was nearly four months since the kidnapping and longer since the message came with the special foods for Warren's molt. And even more amazing, four and a half years had passed since he was first taken by Ztar. Years!

Five years ago, Warren's life was unpredictable, yet predictable at the same time. Same problems just with a new twist…different week, month, year. Now life was threatening to become only predictable. Same routine every day, same Ztar every night – very few twists. Was he getting bored again? Likely. Warren wasn't good with boredom.

Without giving himself time to think anymore, Warren strode over to the computer and placed the chip in the docking slot. Almost immediately, the viewscreen sprang to life and Xavier was facing him. Warren paused the message before Xavier spoke a single word and he studied the image.

The man looked more aged than Warren remembered. A mix of concern and something else was frozen in the face. Sadness perhaps? Regret? At the time of the recording, all Xavier would know of Warren's fate was what Ztar had telepathed him the day he reclaimed his possession and that Warren was obviously alive and in molt.

Warren's hand hesitated over the play command. Then he took a breath…

"Warren, my friend!" Xavier started. "You are alive and I hope was well as can be expected. Earth remains safe and free, so you need not worry about that. Ztar continues to uphold his side of the Accord." Xavier paused and seemed to already need to collect himself.

"I've sent the supplies as requested. From the list, it's obvious you're molting. I added a few other items you may appreciate." Xavier managed a smile.

So that explains the other items in the food stores that he hadn't requested.

"They told me I could send this message, but it needed to be short. I felt you should know that your company is being managed as well as I can ascertain. The orders you issued that I act in your stead are working as intended. There was some grumbling at first, but the power of attorney and other documents were air-tight – they couldn't argue. You were wise to have foreseen the need. When you come back home again, hopefully you'll find all is as it should be at Worthington Enterprises."

Xavier still hoped he'd return, or was it to make Warren feel better? Likely both.

Xavier's face suddenly turned very solemn. "We didn't have a chance to say good-bye this last time. Ztar was very abrupt in telling me telepathically that you were going home with him. Home he said was a planet called Sat'rey, where his seat of power was maintained – his throneworld so to speak. I'm at least glad that you're not living on his ship. I know how difficult that had to have been that first year. I told Ztar how important the freedom of the skies were to you and he said he knew that all too well. He promised he would treat you differently this time – better. That he'd changed. I pray that is the case, Warren."

Warren saw moisture fill the telepath's eyes and that he swallowed hard. "Ztar said that he would allow occasional communications between us, if we wished. I do wish that, Warren. It would be a great relief to hear that you are alive and that Ztar is keeping his word. Please, Warren, send me messages when you can. But if you choose not to, I'll understand." Xavier looked off-camera for a moment.

"I'm being told my time is up. I will wait to hear from you. But if I do not, just know that you remain close to me in my heart. Your sacrifice is not forgotten by those of us who know what you do to keep Earth free. Thank you, my friend!" Xavier ended with a weak smile and the screen went black.

Warren sat and let a tear run down his face without wiping it away. Was nearly five months without word back from Warren too long to have not responded? Would he be thinking that Warren no longer wanted to communicate? Or did Xavier feel occasion could mean many months without word? Warren hoped that was the case.

And so the upcoming communication about coffee was a good thing. Funny how things happen like that. If Delme hadn't asked Warren to obtain coffee for the palace, how many more weeks or months would it have been before Warren listened to the message? Maybe he would have never listened. Xavier would have thought Warren had turned his back to him. That kind of pain Warren would not have caused Charles intentionally. Thank god he finally listened to the message.

Warren made an empowering decision. He wouldn't ask permission to obtain coffee from Earth, he'd use the power of his Imperial position to make it happen. And he wouldn't ask Sukja about the celebration. In fact, he wouldn't ask Ztar. He'd tell the Emperor that's what they were going to do unless he had strong objections. And Warren could not see why that would be the case.

From this point forward, Warren was going to start using the power Ztar gave him in naming him to Imperial staff. He would carve out a position for himself in this new life and take control until they told him no.

Then Warren sat and crafted his message to the Professor explaining the delay in reading Xavier's message, about the new constitution, his decision and plans, and of course the coffee. When he was done some time later, Warren felt more in charge of his life than he had in four and a half years. But the missive was not to be sent quite yet.

###

The rest of Warren's day was spent completing a few miscellaneous duties, straightening up his quarters, and reading.

"Another rough day in the life of Warren Worthington the Third!" he said aloud to his chambers. 'I really need more to keep busy!' he thought. The palace staff was efficient and so well managed by the heads of staff, there was little for Warren to do in that area. The personal attendant duties he had assumed were now old hat and went quickly. Perhaps his decision to act more like Imperial staff would lead to more responsibilities.

As soon as Ztar's day concluded with Gtar-Cro and the others, Warren headed to the Emperor's office. It had been a long meeting and it was well past the usual dinner hour when Warren poked his head through the open office door. Ztar was seated behind his desk, nose buried in the computer viewscreen.

"Ztar, I know you've had a long day already, but do you have a few minutes?"

Ztar's head popped up and a smile came immediately.

"Always for you!"

Warren closed the office door, then settled into the chair across from Ztar.

"A couple of things have come up that I wanted you to know about. First is H'ton Me Rzyr. Delme and I talked about the need to begin preparations. We're thinking of kicking off the celebration in a couple weeks, maybe a little further out depending on Niat's ability to get the food. Any objections?"

Ztar raised his eyebrows at the new approach. Archangel was not asking permission, only if Ztar had any objections. Behavior much more in keeping with a member of Imperial staff, Ztar thought. Perhaps Archangel was beginning to feel like Imperial staff at last. Ztar smiled, but said nothing about his observation.

"I have no objections. Just let me know when my presence is needed for the ceremony."

'Good!' Warren thought. 'The easy one done.'

"My other idea was prompted by the Chef's request for more coffee from Earth. I'd like to open trading channels with my company to supply it to the palace on a regular basis. Delme believes staff and visitors will like it – he certainly does. We'd keep the arrangement low key, just between the palace and Worthington Enterprises for now."

That got Ztar's full attention. Trading with a world that was basically non-spacefaring would be treading into mostly uncharted waters. Ztar had always kept relations with pre-FTL worlds extremely limited. Most of those worlds didn't even know they were part of the large Turzent Empire; those systems were merely absorbed into Imperial territory without their knowledge.

Right or wrong, Ztar firmly believed that alien contact with pre-spacefaring species was to be avoided. Throw advanced technology and interference at peoples not yet ready for life beyond their world was a recipe for disaster. Ztar had enough troubles with FTL worlds without having to police the inevitable disruption alien contact would have on pre-FTL cultures.

Under the new constitution, those worlds not aware of the Empire would remain off limits until they were ready for off-world contact. But Earth was different – the Accord had ensured that. And considering Earth's relations with the Shi'ar Empire, Earth wasn't an ordinary pre-FTL civilization.

"So you and Delme would work only through your company to obtain the coffee? No government involvement?"

"Not now. A private transaction. Once the Empire and Earth figure out how they will interact with each other, we'll adjust our arrangement, if need be."

"Anything other than coffee?"

"I've considered that. I don't want to limit us to just that commodity if there's something else Delme would like to import. Worthington Enterprises can obtain nearly anything."

Ztar quickly ran through some of the possible ramifications of the move. Establishing trade relations between the Emperor's private residence and a company owned by one of his Imperial staff would smack of favoritism and conflict of interest. It would also bypass many of the established channels for trade within the Empire – one being his own finance office, which oversaw trade and commerce. He'd need to make sure his finance minister was agreeable. Several other considerations crossed his mind, but if he limited the transactions to palace needs only…

"Since you're familiar with how business and trade works, I don't think I need to explain the thoughts that have just gone through my mind."

"I do understand that we're opening trade between Imperial power and my private company on a planet not yet a full member of the Empire. I know the impressions it may present and that this likely goes against current trade policy. However, we're keeping this limited to our needs here. I'm part of the palace and I prefer certain food and beverage items. I have resources on Earth that can provide those items. And if palace staff would also like to enjoy those foods, what is the harm? I just ask that my company not absorb the cost beyond my own consumption." Warren said smiling.

Ztar considered the angle. That may just work to smooth over any objections.

"Proceed then. I ask that you keep your personal requests entirely separate from the palace requests. Make sure the communications are direct, no procurer involved, such as Niat. I will inform Finance Minister Yramma e'Troz of our decision. If he has strong objections, I'll let you know, but I don't anticipate any that we can't address."

"Thanks, Ztar. I'll let Delme know he can have his coffee without stealing mine!" Warren joked. As Warren rose, the colors outside the window caught his eye – a beautiful sunset was taking place.

"Look at that," he directed Ztar as he walked over to the window. "It may be the best one I've seen yet on Sat'rey."

"Beautiful indeed!" Ztar agreed. "With the coming rainy season, we should see more of those."

Ztar was more pleased with Archangel's approach to the two issues they discussed than he would let on right now. Another step in Archangel's settling into life on Sat'rey, his role as Imperial staff, and being with Ztar. It warmed him from the inside out. He rose from his desk to join Archangel at the window.

Ztar came up behind Warren as he looked down to the reflecting pool from the Emperor's office. Colors of the sunset rippled, merged, and melted one into the other as a gentle breeze moved the water. It was beautiful and mesmerizing. Ztar's placed his hand at the small of Warren's back under his shirt and slowly moved it up along his spine to the place between the wings. Shivers ran through Warren and he moved slightly to coax the hand to the wing base, but Ztar kept it away. Instead the hand teased the area around where wing met back.

Warren turned slightly toward Ztar and the Emperor nuzzled his ear, nipping at the ear lobe and working his way down the neck with gentle kisses and nips. The whole time Ztar kept the one hand tantalizingly close to the sensitive area of the wing base. Warren wanted the hand on that spot that Ztar knew well, but the Emperor's hand only strayed teasingly nearby.

Warren couldn't get under Ztar's shirt as he was wearing one of his long, belted tunics, so he could only run his hands down Ztar's back over the cloth. Ztar kissed his way back up Warren's neck, ear, cheek and finally brushing against his lips, pulling back just as Warren was about to take Ztar's mouth into his. Then Ztar came in close again, brushing lips across lips. Warren tried again, but again Ztar pulled back.

"You're a tease," Warren said, his voice already becoming breathy.

Ztar smiled just before putting his other hand behind Warren's head and taking his mouth fully for a probing kiss. At the same time, Ztar's hand slid over that erogenous spot at the wing base. Warren moaned and pulled Ztar close, pushing his groin against the Emperor's. Warren never ceased being amazed at how quickly Ztar could arouse him. By the bulge against Warren, the Emperor was in the same condition.

As the kiss wound down, Warren pulled back gently and said the words he knew the Emperor had longed to hear. "Make love to me," he uttered softly. The words were the most difficult yet since his decision to freely give himself to Ztar and they sent a slight shiver through him. He watched as Ztar's eyes widened in an incredulous look.

'Did I hear right?' the Emperor dared to hope.

"Did you just say what I think you did?" he was almost afraid to ask in case he had heard wrong. Then Archangel nodded and smiled a nervous smile. He had heard right! By the gods, he had heard what he never dreamed he would.

"My Archangel, I have waited so long to hear you say those words…so long." The Emperor's answer to his companion's request was swift as he kissed Archangel urgently. Hands applied the right pressure in the right way on both wings and Archangel moaned in growing need, arching into the Emperor further. Ztar pushed Archangel back slowly from him, keeping the kiss locked until the last moment.

"Our chambers," Ztar suggested with a husky voice.

Warren realized that would be much easier, considering there really wasn't anywhere in Ztar's office for this to happen. When you have wings, certain things are a little more difficult, particularly when your lover wants to be on top – a soft bed with plump pillows is a necessity. Ztar took Warren's hand and pulled him toward the door. Ztar opened the office door, and they were greeted by Sukja who was in mid-motion to press the chime.

"Sukja!" Ztar stepped back slightly in surprise.

"Emperor, I'm sorry. I was just coming to talk about a few matters…" Sukja let his voice trail off. One look at the sultry eyes of the Emperor and the joined hands pretty Sukja quickly surmised what he'd interrupted.

"It can wait, my Emperor," and Sukja moved backward.

"Are you certain, Sukja? Nothing urgent?"

"Nothing urgent," he said smiling with a look to Archangel who was blushing. It amused Sukja that Archangel was still embarrassed when caught in an affectionate moment with the Emperor. With a slight, respectful bow, Sukja turned and disappeared down the hall.

"I thought he'd never leave," Warren joked.

Ztar pulled Warren into a quick embrace, laughing softly. "My thoughts exactly!"

As soon as they were in Ztar's chambers, the clothes started coming off, leaving a trail from the door to the bed. With Warren beneath him, the Turzent took the human's mouth urgently. Fingers of one hand sought the sensitive membrane under feathers, and he tantalized and combed, eliciting murmurs of pleasure once again. Later, together they'd repair any resulting splits in the feathers. Ztar enjoyed that routine almost more than anything else they did together, aside from the love-making. It felt intimate and bonding.

For now, Ztar's entire focus was on enjoying long, leisurely sex with the human that made his life worthwhile and gave it meaning. All his accomplishments would mean nothing if Archangel were not at his side. If he ever lost the human, Ztar would surely die – maybe not physically, but his soul would perish. This he believed with his entire being.

Warren was swimming in the sensations Ztar was layering upon him. Ztar was skilled beyond anyone Warren had ever had been with. He felt inadequate in comparison, yet Ztar never seemed to be less than satisfied.

And once again, when Archangel could bear no more, he asked Ztar to take him and Ztar marveled all over again at the other words he once believed he would never hear. Ztar took him, long and deep and passionately until he released into his Archangel and his Archangel was also spent. When the sex was done, he looked into his lover's eyes – the pupils were large and the crystalline-blue seemed a deeper blue – and he thought he'd disappear into them. The empathic sensations coming from Archangel were warm and satisfied and they filled Ztar with the sense of peace his soul had longed for for so many years.

"Do you have any idea how happy you make me?" Ztar asked those eyes.

"I'd have to guess. I don't know," Warren feigned ignorance.

"Euphoric. Ecstatic. I'm in rapture in your arms!" he informed with a chaste kiss and a mischievous grin.

"Laying it on a little thick, aren't we?"

"Just making myself perfectly clear. I don't want you to have any doubts!" He ran his hand through the golden hair.

Ztar's face then took on a more solemn expression as he searched Warren's.

"Why do you stay?" he wanted to know, resting back on an elbow.

Warren wasn't prepared for the question. He hadn't really considered what he'd say if Ztar asked. Yet for all the reasons Warren gave himself why he stayed and all the soul-searching that went into that decision, it really boiled down to one simple reason.

"You believe you need me."

Ztar sat up, his face reflecting the thoughts racing through his mind. While Ztar contemplated, Warren scooted up and back against the pillows along the headboard, watching Ztar.

"I _do_ need you – I can't image life without you. But I don't understand…after everything…why?"

"Because you're worth the commitment. And what you're doing now with the Empire is worth the commitment."

Warren knew Ztar's self-worth was shaky despite how he appeared on the outside – confident, strong, in control. Ztar believed he needed Warren – dependency. If Ztar could come to believe in his own worth, perhaps he'd become strong enough to stand alone and still be content – independence. Then he'd be ready for a fully mature relationship – interdependence. But those thoughts didn't necessarily need to be expressed to Ztar. One step at a time.

"So you chose to stay here, to give up returning home and remain in a relationship that I know you would not chose, because I'm _worth_ the commitment?" Ztar was disbelieving. "I don't know what you're seeing in me, but I wouldn't have made the same decision."

It just didn't add up to Ztar. He had been monstrous to Archangel. Beyond that, he'd been cruel to so many bedmates over the past years, and it horrified him that he couldn't even remember the names of most of his victims. Victims – that what they had been. Beyond even that, he'd been the conqueror, expanding his empire against the will of many, usually with force early on; later with sheer intimidation. Along the way, he'd injured and killed. How could that possibly add up to something that Archangel was willing to put his own life and his own needs aside for?

"Ztar whatever it is you're thinking right now, it's probably all negative. Listing the reasons why I shouldn't have wanted to stay. Turn that around. Think about the good you've done – are doing. One example is Ozjaer. Where would Sukja and Atichi be today if you hadn't come into power? They told me how much that changed their lives for the better. You brought peace to many worlds and now you're returning their freedoms, but with the strong foundation of stable Empire to build on."

"But does the end justify the means? Archangel, I did not build my Empire for altruistic reasons."

"True, but you were what you needed to be at the time. Just as Moit'de told me I was here for a purpose, perhaps the universe placed you where you were needed for a purpose. To pull together an Empire from the warring systems that had been ruling. To provide stability, and from that the hope of a better life and greater prosperity. And isn't that what happened? From everything I've read and heard about life before your Empire and life after, that _is_ what happened. _Now_ tell me that you didn't do something good," Warren concluded, watching Ztar closely for his reaction.

"But again, the means…"

"Perhaps a less driven person, a more compassionate person, would not have been capable of what you accomplished. But that kind of person is no longer needed – the Empire has been created and is evolving. And look at you – you're no longer that kind of person. You're evolving." Warren paused, placing a hand over Ztar's that were clasped in his lap. "Ztar, you are on the right path. You are fulfilling your purpose. Just as I decided to fulfill mine – to stay here with you until you don't need me anymore."

Ztar's eyes grew wide. "I will always need you!"

"There is a big difference between need and want," Warren said simply.

Ztar sat quietly for a few moments. "I _do_ need you, Archangel. Life without you…I'm not strong enough. I fear what I'd return to or what I'd do." Ztar confessed with moisture in his eyes.

"And that's why I decided to stay. The person you're becoming is worth the commitment."

Ztar looked at Archangel with genuine awe. It _was_ like he was brought into Ztar's life for a purpose. He could see that now and he thanked the gods for making it so.

"You are my miracle, Archangel. You _are_ an Esserru! You have healed my soul," Ztar said, gently touching Archangel's face.

Warren knew all about the legend of the Esserru in Turzent mythology – creatures of great compassion, wisdom, and power. It was a high compliment. He smiled.

"Well, this Esserru is hungry – we haven't had dinner yet!" Warren exclaimed to lighten the mood.

Ztar laughed heartily and shook his head. "Then we must eat. Delme's kitchen is closed. We'll have to make do with what's here."

"Suits me just fine. Snacks and Dison – a good way to end the evening."

###

Two things were at the top of Warren's priority list – the H'ton Me Rzyr festival and contacting Xavier and Worthington Enterprises. He given word to Delme that Ztar agreed the festival should be held, so the chef was already busy planning and securing the food. Moit'de was tasked with the usual ceremony preparations. All Warren needed to do was ensure Ztar knew where to be when, that the festival was formally announced for next week, and that things moved ahead. Pretty easy.

What wasn't quite as easy was putting the pieces in place for opening trade with Worthington Enterprises. Warren's message to Xavier had been recorded several days ago. Since Xavier had power-of-attorney over Worthington Enterprises in Warren's absence, he would direct the company on Warren's behalf and orchestrate the trade, at least the first time. After that, Warren would work directly Worthington Enterprises without Xavier as intermediary. The person he had in mind at WE as his direct contact was already privy to the extent of life beyond Earth and could be trusted with highly sensitive matters.

Warren's plan was to send a courier ship to the X-mansion and have the message and a comlink device hand delivered to Xavier. Once everything was in place and the coffee and other goods where ready for transport, the courier ship would return at Xavier's signal for the cargo. Warren learned that obtaining courier ships was done through Security Chief Lar.

"So if I understand correctly, this will be a periodic request. A courier ship to Earth to retrieve various commodities," Lar restated.

"That's the idea. Our courier turns over payment and the goods are brought back. Simple."

"Seems simple enough. As long as Ztar and anyone else concerned is agreeable, I don't see any logistical problems. For this first trip, the courier is not to wait, correct? Xavier will send word when all is ready?"

"Yes. I'd like to include a couple comlinks with my message chip so we can have direct contact from now on. One for Xavier and one for my contact at Worthington Enterprises."

"That can be arranged. Earth is so far removed from the rest of the Empire, though, I'll need to make sure the link will be stable. If not, things get a little more complicated, but that's for me to worry about. I'll let you know if that's an issue."

Warren could easily tell that Lar was running through many issues his head while he talked. Security is a complex dance of free movement of goods and people while maintaining enough control to ensure safety.

"When can we send the courier?"

"Give me today to take care of the details. Tomorrow?" Lar offered.

"Quicker that I thought! That works." Warren laid the chip on Lar's desk. "This is the message to Xavier. Other than the comlinks, nothing else goes this first trip."

Lar picked up the chip and nodded. "I'll let you know when everything is set. On your word, this message will be relayed to the selected courier and it will be on its way to Earth for hand delivery with the comlinks."

Warren rose from the chair and smiled at Lar. "Thank you! I appreciate the assistance."

"Just doing the job."

###

A couple days later, Warren entered his own chambers mid-afternoon, which mostly served as his office since he'd been sharing chambers with Ztar, and was greeted by his PI chiming. His heart skipped a beat – it was the chime tone indicating a message from Earth.

He immediately brought up the message and it was from Xavier as he expected. Xavier was all smiles in the recorded image. The video quality was somewhat degraded and Warren assumed Lar's concern about the stability of the link was coming into play.

"Warren! I was overcome with joy at receiving your message! I had hopes you might be nearby to take this message live, but I'll just leave a recording for now. Thank you for explaining the delay in reading my first message. I understand completely. I was also glad to hear that things are…more comfortable for you. Although I must admit my surprise at your decision to remain with Ztar." Xavier paused and seemed to consider his next words.

"Actually, I'm not surprised at your willingness to put aside your needs for someone else's. That is nothing new for you. I worry, though my friend, that you do so at too high a personal price sometimes. Don't lose yourself to Ztar." Another pause as Xavier gathered his thoughts.

"I have already contacted your company and things are in motion. Josh Rellings tells me I'll hear in a couple days that the coffee and other items are ready," Xavier explained smiling. "I had to do a lot of tap dancing around his questions concerning you, the Turzent Empire, and where this off-world trade may lead. Mr. Rellings is very astute, Warren, but his concerns are assuaged for now. You were right to choose him; he is a man of discretion and his word." Warren concluded that Xavier likely scanned the man before trusting him with any information about Warren.

"I'm not going to bore you with tales of our latest trials. Just know not much has changed and it continues to be more of the same. All the people you know are well. Earth's biggest challenge will likely be after we're brought fully into the Empire, in whatever manner it is that Ztar and his government intend to accomplish that. I look forward to hearing more, but I do need to say it worries me. To be honest, I'm not sure Earth's people are ready to join the interstellar community on a grand scale. Caution must be exercised!"

Xavier's image flickered and degraded more.

"But enough of that for now. I look forward to future messages and hopefully some live talks. Again, thank you for sending the message. Anything I can do to help you I will. Take care, my friend!" And the screen went blank on Xavier's broad smile.

Warren felt a happiness and warmth toward Xavier and Earth that he hadn't experienced in a long time. This had been a good idea all around, he concluded.

###

Ztar was agitated with Gtar-Cro. Five weeks since the possible discovery that the Etagllot organization may have resurfaced and still nothing concrete from MI. Another possibility was that the discovery was a planted falsehood meant to distract MI during this already tense period for his government. Whichever was the truth, answers were needed. He sent another secure comm message reminding Gtar-Cro that he was still waiting for those answers.

###

The day had come for the release of the new constitution and the enactment plan to the public. The inner circle gathered at the palace for the first hours after the release to wait on the reports from across the Empire. Planetary security and the military were on high, but quiet alert. Everything that could be done to pave the way had been done. Communication outlets across the star systems read, distributed, posted, and analyzed the constitution. Now it was up to the people to judge their work, and those in current power held their breath.

Sukja and Warren were also in the conference room that was alive with viewscreens subspace linked to the most important media outlets. It was the first time Warren had been asked to sit in on an inner circle meeting. He felt honored, but a little out of place. Sukja had reassured him that he would be welcomed, yet Warren wasn't so certain. Thus far, though, no one had given any indication that we were irritated or offended at his presence. But Warren would remain quiet unless and until he was brought into any discussions.

At the early juncture, first impressions of the documents were mostly positive. However, Warren kept things in perspective. This was a media not used to openly criticizing the government too harshly. While the media had not been state-run, it had not been a "freedom of the press" environment. The enactment plan clearly stated that freedom of the media was effective immediately. No matter what the constitution now said, the media and others would be leery at first, slowly testing the waters of their newfound liberty. This fact was acknowledged by everyone in the room, so first impressions reporting was taken with a grain of salt.

Then as the media became more confident that their freedom to speak out was real, the backlash would begin. Those in power expected the pent-up anger and discontent to erupt and criticism of Imperial rule would be its most vicious. Once that had been expelled, more even-handed reporting and commentary should become the norm.

For now, the reports were encouraging. Broadcasted interviews with various officials and Ztar's planetary relations staff were going well.

"Enjoy the honeymoon period while it lasts and use it to its fullest advantage. It will end soon enough," Ztar quoted Myrundra to everyone in the room. She was the only one of the inner circle not present – duty required her to be in the midst of the action.

Myrundra held Ztar in reserve. Let him speak to his people the day after the release. That gave her staff time to evaluate the reaction and adjust Ztar's words accordingly. He would receive a draft of his address overnight for review. Ztar would record the message tomorrow morning and it was scheduled to be broadcast mid-afternoon that day.

Continuously open links were maintained between the palace and Myrundra's office, as well as military intelligence and security forces. Thus far, nothing unexpected or dire had been detected. And after the first few hours, the room began to breathe a little more easily.

"We appear to be coming through the first critical hours in good shape," Gtar-Cro noted.

"Some grumbling about the order in which systems will be brought under the new constitution, but that's to be expected," Legal Advisor Stjarmas'de added. "Going by seniority, though, seems to be generally accepted as the most valid approach. Hard to argue that point with any real substance."

Warren noted that Stjarmas'de statement meant Earth would be likely one of the last planets brought under the new constitution. Only those systems acquired through the Turzent-Commonwealth Peace Treaty would be further down on the list, and that list was very short. Warren wondered if Earth was getting any information as to what was transpiring. Certainly, the key government officials that had been privy to the Turzent-Earth Accord were being apprised?

"Ztar, do you have a moment?" he asked.

Ztar walked over to where Warren was standing off to one side of the room.

"What about Earth? Is there any communication with them today? Are they aware of what's happening?"

"No, Archangel. Not yet."

"Why not?"

"In part because Earth isn't fully part of the Empire as yet. Once Earth is a full member under the constitution and the Accord is void, we'll determine how much contact is appropriate for your planet." Ztar did a mental jerk as he realized what he had just revealed. His heart skipped.

It took a long moment for the meaning of the reply to hit him. Warren was stunned and his voice eluded him. Had he heard correctly? That was not what Ztar had told him three weeks ago! Ztar had said Earth was freed then already.

"The Accord is _still in effect_?!" Warren finally found his voice.

"Archangel, don't misunderstand. Earth is free and you are free. Earth just doesn't know it yet." Ztar said feeling the anger flaring in Archangel.

"What's going on, Ztar?" Warren's voice rose. He was ready to be very angry. Several faces turned toward them.

"Let's talk elsewhere," Ztar said quietly. "I'll explain."

'You had better,' Warren fumed silently as the two men left the conference room. As soon as the door closed behind them, Warren turned on Ztar.

"What the hell is going on? You said the Accord was void three weeks ago!"

"And it _will_ be – officially – when Earth comes under the constitution."

Shock and anger swept through Warren. "That's a year from now! You never said that. You said Earth was free – I was free! There were no qualifiers – no timeframe. I asked if I could leave the next day and you said yes!" Warren was livid.

Ztar watched as Archangel's eyes burned and the wings spread slightly – both indicators of his level of anger. It was high!

"And you could have. I would never hold you to the Accord now or in the coming months. It's as good as void – it's just a _technicality._"

"Technicalities have a way of undoing the best of intentions, Ztar! You may say I'm free, but legally I am not and neither is Earth." Warren was nearly in Ztar's face. "You should have told me! You lied to me through omission!"

Ztar stepped back from Archangel the anger was so intense. 'By the gods, what do I say now?'

"Archangel, please! I am so sorry I didn't clarify. Believe me, you are free – I decreed it! I am still Emperor. No one will hold you to the Accord – _no one_!"

Warren backed away from Ztar. He was too mad right not to talk any more. "When I'm really free, come see me. Til then, stay away from me!" And Warren stormed down the hall, out of the palace, and into the afternoon air.

Ztar stood stunned. "Damn the gods!" he yelled down the empty hall.

The door behind Ztar opened cautiously. It was Sukja.

"My Emperor, is everything alright?" he asked warily.

Ztar turned to Sukja and the look on Ztar's face took him by surprise – he looked devastated.

"No, Sukja. It's not."

Sukja stepped out into the hall, closing the conference room door behind him.

"What happened?"

"He found out the Accord is still in effect."

"_What_?!" Sukja was dumbfounded. 'The Accord still in effect?'

"I told him it's just a _technicality_ and I would never hold him to it. And you know I wouldn't! Sukja, he's so very angry right now. He said I lied. I didn't mean to – in my mind the Accord no longer exists!" Ztar swallowed hard. Had he just ruined everything? "He said to stay away from him until he was really free. By the gods, Sukja, what do I do now?!"

Sukja took a deep breath. They needed to move this conversation elsewhere. "Ztar, come with me."

Sukja firmly took control, leading the Emperor to the next conference room and closing the door. Once he had the Emperor sitting down, he pulled up a chair and sat facing the Emperor.

"Ztar, I need to understand exactly what the situation is with the Accord. I, too, thought it was void already."

"Counselors – necessary evils!" Ztar nearly spat the words out. "He said that all agreements between the Empire and the planets should remain in effect until each world comes under the new constitution to ensure a more stable transition. That way everyone knows what's expected of them until they are part of the new order – Earth included. And I allowed it. It seemed so reasonable. But Earth is such a different situation – I should have known better. And now Archangel believes I lied to him! Sukja, I didn't mean to. It's a technicality – no one will enforce it! But he didn't accept that." Ztar took in a shaky breath. " 'When I'm really free, come see me. Til then, stay away' – those were his words. Then he left."

"You explained all this to him?"

"I didn't have time. He left before- I was taken by surprise. He was so angry. I didn't think fast enough." Ztar was fighting to remain composed, but he feared the ramifications. 'By the gods, how could I have been so misguided?'

Sukja sighed quietly. He didn't see this as an insurmountable problem, but where Archangel was concerned, any threat to that relationship left Ztar in a maelstrom. Sukja was certain that Archangel's pragmatic side would see the logic in the Counselor's approach and in Ztar's good intentions. Right now, though, Archangel was likely too upset to be thinking straight.

"My Emperor, give him time to calm down. Then you'll tell him what you just told me. He's sensible – he'll see why the decision was made. The transition period is not just about Earth – there's a bigger picture that needs to be considers. Archangel just isn't seeing at the moment."

Ztar was dubious. He had hurt Archangel once again through the well-meant deception. How many hurts would his beloved be willing to put aside?

"I just hope he comes back," Ztar put voice to his fear. Their empathic connection told him how very angry Archangel was, but connection was tenuous and growing weak. Ztar worried it would break.

"He will," Sukja said with confidence, but he was worried. This was Ztar's first lie to Archangel and the damage could be significant, now and down the road.

###


	12. Chapter 12

_How does Ztar recover from his trust blunder? Warren takes another step toward real freedom. And a chapter ending that hits all our characters with something seemingly from out of the blue. _

_I really hope to get the rest of our story posted before heading out for a little vacation. But if I don't, I will have my computer and internet access, so perhaps I can wrap things up while kicking back and relaxing. _

_Happy reading!_

**Chapter Twelve**

Warren's body vibrated with his rage. Wings slashed at the air as he rose above the Imperial Valley. How could he have been so gullible?! Ztar hadn't released him – it was a lie! And the supposedly business-savvy Warren Worthington the Third believed it when the Emperor told him the Accord was void. What, my magic? By Ztar's word? Emperor or not, a contract is a contract. And this contract was so air-tight that no one on Earth or the Shi'ar Empire could find a loophole. Yet Warren believed Ztar when he said it was void – just like that. He had even told Xavier in his message Ztar had nullified it. What a fool he was!!

Even if the Accord was truly void once Earth fell under the constitution, it was another year at least of servitude. But why had Ztar lied? He'd never lied before to Warren. At least not that Warren had found out. Were there other lies he didn't know about? Other half-truths?

Warren brought his climb to an end and hovered far above the palace looking down. His gilded cage remained. Was Ztar being truthful when he said he'd no longer enforce the Accord, or did he hang onto that legal safety net just in case Warren changed his mind about staying? That would ensure Ztar another year of Warren's life. And to what extent would Ztar go to enforce the Accord if Warren did decide to leave?

Too many questions, but he didn't want to even look at Ztar right now to try to get answers. Warren wanted another perspective, someone to talk to, but he had so few choices. Not Sukja; not Moit'de – too close to the problem. Atichi? Maybe Atichi. Without caring about security rules, Warren headed toward Yaunra.

Although he'd only been there by shuttle, Warren was confident he could find the little shop again. It did take a bit longer than he thought to locate the shop, but he spotted it once he saw the marketplace where Niat's business stood.

As Warren came in for a landing, it was mid-afternoon and the street was busy with shoppers, business people, and others going about their lives. At the sound of beating wings, people looked up surprised. They scattered to get out of his way. Warren was still too angry to really care if he scared anyone with his approach. He ignored the comments about who he was, what he was, Esserru, and the like. Atichi heard the commotion through her open shop door and was nearly at the entrance when Warren stepped inside.

"Archangel?! What a surprise! I hadn't heard you were coming!"

Warren watched as Atichi looked around for an Imperial guard.

"There's no guard, Atichi."

"No? But I thought…"

"I came alone," he said more harshly than he intended, before moving farther inside and away from the pedestrians that had come to a halt in front of the shop.

Atichi saw the curiosity seekers and gently closed the door.

"I have hot tea. Would you like a cup?" she offered.

"That would be nice." Warren forced a smile for the Ozjaerian.

Atichi disappeared to her backroom, but then quickly stepped back out into the shop. "Would you like to come back here and sit? It's less visible," she suggested.

Warren nodded and followed her to the back, away from anyone who might be peering into her shop through the large front window. A table just large enough for two was squeezed into a corner, next to a counter where the tea brewed. He might just fit at the table with his wings held closely. Atichi put out two cups, poured tea, and then joined Warren at the table.

"So, what brings you here today?" she asked cheerily, but her face betrayed her concern.

"I- I need someone to talk to. Someone not connected directly with the palace. I thought of you. I hope that's okay…" Warren studied Atichi's reaction for any sign that this was not a good idea. He saw none.

"Of course it's okay! Whatever we say here will not be repeated, Archangel. That I vow."

Warren took a sip of the hot beverage and focused on the warm sensation as he swallowed and the scent of the tea. His anger no longer burned quite as intensely. He let the tea further calm him, before speaking.

"Ztar lied to me, Atichi. Not outright, but by not fully disclosing. He withheld information that was important to me!" As he spoke, Warren felt the anger rise again.

"Oh, dear. And that's why you're upset."

"More than upset, Atichi. A half hour ago I was livid. I've calmed down a bit."

Atichi looked at him with an expression that welcomed more talking. "And what he withheld, _he_ knows this was important to you?"

"He couldn't not know!" Warren caught himself when the words came out more forcefully than he intended. He didn't want to frighten Atichi with his anger. Warren continued in a softer voice, "It's complicated, Atichi. What he didn't tell me affects everything I've chosen to do these past three weeks. I made a decision and lived under false pretenses since he lied."

"Do you know what his intentions were when he did this? Have you talked with him?"

Warren stared into the tea. "He tried to explain, but I'm not buying it. But I did leave before he could really explain himself," he admitted.

"Perhaps you should talk more then."

"I don't even want to look at him right now, Atichi. This wasn't a small thing, what he did. It affects me and my homeworld. It affects Earth – I'm responsible for protecting Earth now for another year! I thought I was free of that. But now…" Warren's anger was beginning to turn to pain.

"Archangel, I'm not following you. I don't understand." Atichi said, putting her hand on Warren's wrist.

"Atichi, I don't know where to begin. You may not want to know… I don't know if I should…"

"Nothing shocks me anymore, Archangel. I've seen and done too much in my life. If it will help you to tell me…I'm a very good listener," she said with a kind smile and a pat of the wrist.

With the gentle patting, an image of his mother sprang up, comforting him in the same way so many years ago. Then suddenly, the lid of the pit where Warren had been stuffing all the pain and emotion blew open and the story of his life for the past four years rushed out. How Ztar ripped him away from his home and life. How Earth's safety rested on Warren's cooperation with the then cruel Emperor, the horrors of those first few weeks. The endless months on board the Mi-Lartui and the near debilitating confinement after war broke out. His return to Earth and how much harder that was than Warren could have possibly imagined. How for three years Ztar would come for him for one thing and one thing only and then unceremoniously dump him back on Earth. And each time it was more painful to pick up his life again. How he was so left behind while his friends fought important fights and he could only wait anxiously for their safe return. How six months ago, Ztar came for him again. And the pain and humiliation he inflicted on Warren once again that first night.

How he was thrust into a role of Imperial staff and how badly that had gone with Rja. Then how Ztar was changing and everyone was telling him to help Ztar to heal. And Ztar did continue to mellow and claimed to love Warren. The kidnapping, rapes, and torture. How it was Ztar's constant presence that helped Warren through the ordeal. Warren's decision to finally give Ztar what he wanted regardless of the Accord, believing he could somehow eventually gain his freedom. It seemed to have worked when Ztar told him he was free three weeks ago. And finally Warren's decision to stay even after he was free, or was supposedly freed. It was a half-truth – a lie by omission!

Through it all, Atichi listened eyes moist from unshed tears, never saying a word as the story was almost exploded from Warren. He hadn't confided completely to anyone about what he'd been through, not even to Xavier during the three years of the war he spent on Earth. It left Warren shaking and drained; tears fell. Atichi simply handed him tissues and poured more tea as Warren regained his composure.

"That's it – the whole sordid story of my life for the past four and a half years," Warren concluded when he felt he could speak again.

"I heard nothing sordid, Archangel. What I heard was a sacrifice made honorably and nobly to protect your world. The story of an Emperor who has seen the error of his ways and is trying to change. Two lives originally entwined for cross-purposes, but are now perhaps headed down the same path."

Atichi seemed to have summed things succinctly, but it did nothing to ease Warren's anger at Ztar for the deception.

"That may be true, Atichi, but he still lied to me. The Accord still stands. I'm still indentured to Ztar despite what he allowed me to believe these past three weeks!"

"Is it that you're still bound to Ztar that angers you or that he didn't tell you?" she asked, sipping her tea.

"Both." Then Warren realized that wasn't true. "Actually, that he didn't tell me. I think, maybe, he was being honest when he said the Accord is still in place only as a technicality. But I deserved to know that and he chose not to tell me. Atichi, I don't think he's ever lied to me. Even in the past when he treated me badly, he never lied to me that I know of."

"You feel betrayed?" she offered.

Warren nodded. "Perhaps that's it. After everything I've given up and everything I've tried to do to help him… I think maybe that's it. I feel betrayed."

Atichi set her cup down. "Then you should tell him that. Help him to understand how it hurt that he didn't tell you – didn't trust you enough to share that information."

"That's a lot of it, Atichi. That he didn't trust me. I've given up so much, yet he didn't trust that I could deal with the Accord still being in force. I think that's why I'm suspicious of his motives. Will he use the Accord to force me to stay if I decide to leave before it's voided? That nags at me."

"Do you think he would?"

Warren considered that question carefully. "I honestly don't know. I want to think he wouldn't, but then when I saw how distraught he was at the thought of me leaving three weeks ago…"

"When he said you were free, did Ztar know then that the Accord would still be in effect for another year?"

Warren was going to say the Emperor must have known, but did he? "I don't know, Atichi. I assume he did, but maybe I'm wrong in that assumption."

"Something to talk with him about. If he freed you not realizing the Accord would remain until your planet came under the new government that could be a different situation."

"He did procrastinate on the decision about Earth until the last minute. Maybe that delay meant other things were also not decided – like the timeline for voiding the Accord."

Atichi smiled for the first time since they began talking. "Perhaps a small point to clarify."

"I'm still upset with Ztar," Warren felt the need to clarify that point.

"Understandable. Whatever the timing, he failed to tell you that the Accord was not yet void. He should have done that as soon as he knew."

"Exactly."

Both were silent for a bit, sipping the last of the tea and contemplating their conversation and the situation with Ztar.

"Atichi, I don't feel like going back to the palace tonight. Is there someplace you'd recommend I stay?"

"You'll stay with me," she said firmly. And when Warren opened his mouth to protest, she nipped it in the bud. "No arguments! My home is upstairs. I have a guest room that is comfortable. This way I'll know you're safe and the mother in me will be much more at ease," she finished with a twinkle in her eyes.

"As you command, Atichi," Warren acquiesced with a smile.

"Now what shall we plan for dinner?" Atichi glanced at the clock on the counter. "Niat's is still open. We can see what ideas he has."

Warren wasn't sure about going over the Niat's just now. Atichi immediately picked up on Warren's hesitation.

"I'll comm him and he can send one of his boys over with whatever he recommends."

"Sounds like a good plan." Warren really hadn't wanted to deal with going over to Niat's. It would draw too much attention, and he didn't feel up to that right now.

Atichi got on the comm with Niat's shop and soon dinner arrangements were complete. Atichi and Warren chatted away the rest of the evening. When Atichi could slip away for a minute, she sent a message to the palace.

###

Back at the Imperial residence, Sukja's PI chimed that a message had come in from Atichi. "Archangel is safe with me. Staying here tonight. Love and fondness." Sukja immediately walked to Ztar's chambers.

The Emperor was beside himself. It was well past dark and still no Archangel. Where had he gone?

"My Emperor, Archangel is with Atichi. He is safe."

"Thank the gods!" Ztar's relief was physical as well as emotional.

"Her message said he's staying there tonight."

Ztar's face fell at the news. "He is truly angry with me, Sukja."

"What does your empathic connection say?"

"I don't know, Sukja. The connection is empty," Ztar voiced was heavy with sadness.

"Isn't that a bit odd?"

"Somewhat. But empathic links are less than reliable in that way. Especially if the other person – how can I put it…if they pull into themselves. It can break the link."

"The important thing is he's safe for tonight. Try to get some rest. Atichi can work wonders. She'll help Archangel see that you did not mean to hurt him," Sukja reassured, fully believing that Atichi was the best place Archangel could have gone.

"I hope you're right." Ztar looked at Sukja closely. "Our first argument, Sukja. You said this would happen."

"But I didn't anticipate it would be Atichi's spare bed put to use," Sukja replied with a lopsided smile.

"No, that you did not foresee!"

Ztar tossed and turned throughout the night. It was the first time in many weeks that he slept alone and found he didn't like it one iota.

In Atichi's spare room, Warren also tossed. Sleeping alone now felt odd. He didn't want it to, but it did. Tomorrow when he felt ready, he'd go back and demand Ztar explain in great detail precisely what he had been thinking. Until then, Warren would withhold judgment on the Emperor's motives.

###

Atichi's spare room had one small window that did not face the sunrise. In the darker than usual room, Warren was surprised at how late he'd slept – way pass breakfast time. Warren pulled on his clothes and headed to the bathroom. There he found towels and other toiletries for his use. After cleaning up, he went looking for the Ozjaerian. Entering the kitchen, a note said that a plate of food waited for him in cold storage and it just needed heating. Atichi was a good host.

"Good morning, Archangel!" Atichi greeted warmly as he entered the backroom from upstairs. She was busy at her desk in the tight quarters. "You slept well?"

"I did. Thank you again for putting up with me – my sad tales and all."

"You are welcome. There was nothing to put up with. I enjoyed your company last night. We had a good time, didn't we?" Her face was filled with warmth.

Warren remembered the evening fondly. He and Atichi shared mouth-watering food provided by Niat, an excellent bottle of sanui, and good conversation. Atichi amused him with her storytelling and he had allowed her to carry the weight of the conversation, not feeling so talkative himself after spilling his guts to her earlier. Atichi seemed very willing to be the entertainer for the evening.

He grinned. "That we did! I could listen to your stories for hours. How is it that both you and Sukja are so good at that?" he asked leaning against the wall of the stairway.

"Oral history – storytelling – goes back to antiquity in our culture. It's a skill passed down from generation to generation. Although that tradition is observed less and less these days. Sukja and I were both lucky enough to have families that believed in preserving at least that much of our heritage."

"It's a wonderful gift with words you both have. While you're telling the story, I feel I know the people involved."

"That's key to a good story. The listener must be able to relate to the main characters. If not, nothing else matters," she replied with an engaging smile. Atichi was still beautiful even in her middle years. Warren could only image how stunning she must have been when young.

"Atichi, could I hang out here for awhile today? I don't think I'm ready to go back to the palace yet."

"Of course. But beware, I may put you to work in the shop!" she warned lightheartedly.

"Actually, that would be fun. What do you need done? Cleaning, straightening, repairs?"

Atichi was taken aback by his offer. "Are you serious?"

"I am. What can I do to help?"

Atichi thought for a bit. Would it be proper to let Imperial staff work for her, even for a short while? How would Sukja react if he knew. Or Ztar? But then again, what harm would be done? If Archangel needed a distraction for a few hours, then that's what Atichi would provide. To hell with the propriety!

"Well, there is this little problem on the roof," she started. It would be the best application of Archangel's abilities. He could get to the roof easily.

And so Warren found himself doing a roof repair. Some of the shingle-like material had apparently been lost in the last strong storm and Atichi hadn't gotten around to hiring someone to make the repairs. She had the materials, just no one to do the work. When that was done, he moved on to fixing a window that didn't like to open. Then he helped her move some heavy boxes in her storeroom. Following that, he swept the storeroom and generally cleaned up. Before he knew it, Atichi called him for lunch.

They sat in her backroom enjoying soup and a sandwich; a lunch that Warren found satisfying. Nothing pretentious, just simple food. A nice change from palace cuisine.

In the middle of the meal, Warren looked over at the woman who had given him refuge.

"Thank you, Atichi," he put as much gratitude into his voice as he could.

"For anything in particular at this moment?" she inquired.

"For being a friend when I really needed one."

Her smile was large and her eyes turned misty. "You honor me by calling me friend. That means much," she said softly, reaching her hand out to his and they clasped hands. She squeezed his gently.

"I am going to head back after lunch."

She nodded. "It's time."

After the dishes were done, Warren embraced Atichi before he exited out the back door and took to the air. She waved good-bye from the doorway. He turned and hovered from a moment and waved in return. Then he headed back to face the Emperor. Ztar had a lot to explain.

###

Sukja's PI chimed the arrival of another message from Atichi. "Archangel returns just now. Ztar should be prepared to explain. Love and fondness."

Sukja smiled. By the gods he loved that woman. It would never be between them, though – the friendship was too precious. He commed Ztar's office where the Emperor was preparing his address to the people. This should lighten his spirits.

Sukja's face appeared on the Ztar's viewscreen. "Ztar, Archangel is returning as we speak."

"Thank the gods! How is he? Is he still angry?"

"I don't know. Atichi only said you should be prepared to explain yourself," Sukja said with a smile. It was good news that Archangel wanted to talk.

"Maybe he'll give me a chance!"

"If I know Atichi, Archangel is willing to listen to you now with an open mind."

"If that's true, that woman has earned my eternal gratitude! Thank you, Sukja."

Then with a much less laden heart, Ztar finished recording the speech as crafted by his communication staff. It was a good speech and his enthusiasm for where the Empire was heading came through clearly.

###

Warren landed on his balcony and slipped into his chambers. He wanted to change clothes before seeing anyone. He remembered that Ztar needed to do this speech today, but wasn't sure exactly when that was to happen. He thought it was to be around mid-day. If that was the case, Ztar may still be busy with that and their talk would need to wait.

After taking his time in his private chambers, Warren wandered out into the hall to head to Ztar's office. His feet dragged though. The thought of an intense conversation with Ztar wasn't what he wanted to do right now. He would rather be back with Atichi cleaning her storeroom.

He was still angry with the Emperor, but no longer jumping to conclusions. He knew that Ztar would beg for forgiveness. He knew the Emperor would have a good reason for what he did. And Warren knew he'd end up telling Ztar that he understood. It just seemed like so much effort involved to get from point A to point B. Why not simply jump to point B and be done with it? Why bother with explanations when the end result would be the same. Just suck it up, Worthington, and move on.

Part of him protested. 'You deserve an explanation,' it said. 'You're worth an explanation.' But he wasn't sure he believed it. All the talk of building Ztar's self-worth and emotional strength; what about Warren's? Ever the self-sacrificing winged mutant. His needs are secondary. Explanations aren't required. He'll endure the wrongs and slights. He's not worth the expenditure of energy.

Warren stopped in the hall. His emotions were getting the better of him. What did he want Ztar to say? What explanation did he want to hear? What difference would it make? Did it matter at all? He closed his eyes and fought down the negative thoughts. Of course it mattered! He felt betrayed and Ztar owed him a valid explanation and an apology for that betrayal.

'You're worth it! Just keep telling yourself that, and maybe someday you'll believe it,' he encouraged himself. Warren took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, opening his eyes. Then he realized that someone was standing nearby with a look of concern.

"Archangel, sir, are you okay?" the young woman asked.

"I'm fine, just need to catch myself for a minute," he said smoothly.

"May I get you anything? A glass of water?"

"No, I'm okay – really. Thank you for your concern," he looked down at the woman. Her voice and face were familiar, and not just as one of the many palace staff members. "What's your name?"

"Merryth, sir."

Merryth. Tarric and Merryth. Of course! "I remember you from the patio during lunch one day, talking with Tarric. You were sitting next to Sukja and me."

The young woman lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry about the way he talked about you. He doesn't work here anymore."

"But you defended me. Twice actually. Thank you."

Merryth's face showed confusion. "Twice?"

"Yes, that day at lunch and then one night below my balcony…" Warren realized he just admitted he had eavesdropped, but he didn't care at the moment. "When Tarric said it was wrong that I was named to Imperial staff."

Merryth's eyes widened. "You heard? You were there?" her voice was near a whisper and she looked horrified that Warren had overheard.

"You defended me then, too."

"I- I did?" she stammered.

"Yes. You said you saw nothing wrong with it."

"I guess I did. And I don't. Tarric was wrong," she said with conviction.

"Just know I appreciate what you said. And thanks again for stopping to see if I was okay. That was kind." Warren gave Merryth his best smile.

She smiled back. Merryth was very pretty, Warren noted. Too young for him, but very pretty all the same.

"I best get back to work now, sir," she said moving down the hall, slightly backward, still grinning.

"Have a good day, Merryth!" he told her as he headed down the hall the opposite direction.

The exchange with Merryth lightened his mood. It felt good to have someone on your side. Someone that defended you when you weren't around. Merryth was obviously one of those someones.

Warren decided not to go to Ztar's office. Instead, he headed to the Emperor's chambers. Their chambers, actually, but Warren didn't care to call it that today. He gave himself permission to be upset with Ztar again. He had a right to be and he wasn't going to shove it aside, push it down, or otherwise say his feelings weren't important. He had done that for far too long. He sent a message to Ztar's office telling the Emperor he was in his chambers when Ztar was free to talk, and then he waited, sipping a glass of Dison.

Within 15 minutes, Ztar entered, looking apprehensive. That pleased Warren.

"Archangel?" the Emperor inquired as he approached Warren slowly, almost as if he'd scare Warren away if he moved too quickly.

"Ztar," Warren replied coolly, looking the Emperor in the eyes.

The Emperor sat in the chair across from Warren, spying the glass of Dison Warren had poured for him.

"Thank you," Ztar said acknowledging the drink.

Warren said nothing as yet. 'Let Ztar sweat just a little,' he thought.

"You had a pleasant stay with Atichi?" The Emperor's voice was very hesitant.

"Yes. She is a good host."

"She is that." As Ztar reached for the glass, Warren saw his hand tremble ever so slightly. The man who had forged an Empire with those two hands was trembling. Warren allowed himself to be briefly impressed with his power over Ztar, but that was egotistical and he threw it away. It was time to move the conversation along.

"Ztar, you owe me an explanation. I would like to hear it now."

Ztar swallowed hard – Warren could see it.

"You're right, I do." Then Ztar took a drink of Dison, followed by a deep breath. "Stjarmas'de advised me to keep all agreements between the Imperial government and planetary systems in place until each moved under the new government. I was told this would help with stability through the transition period. Keeping agreements and treaties in tact avoided uncertainty of their relationship with and responsibilities to the Empire in the interim. Status quo. Since we wanted to treat all systems equally, that advice included Earth."

Ztar hesitated before continuing, as if waiting for Warren to speak. Warren did not.

"That meant the Accord would remain in effect for the next year or so as Earth is one of the last systems that will brought under the constitution. Archangel, that doesn't mean _I_ hold you to the Accord. You are free – just as if the Accord were void. It's just a legal technicality!"

Warren wasn't moved by the plea. "When did you know that the Accord would remain in effect for another year?" he demanded.

Ztar lowered his eyes. "The morning after I said you were free, I sent the message Stjarmas'de saying the Accord was to be voided as soon as the constitution was ratified. It was a couple days later that he explained the Accord should remain in effect until Earth was transitioned just like every other star system. Play no favorites – nothing for anyone to criticize, he told me. And I went along with it." Ztar looked up into Warren's face. "I didn't think about what that would mean to you. In my heart you were already free – it didn't matter what the legal status of the Accord was. Please believe me, I didn't mean to deceive you!" Ztar's voice shook from the emotions evident in his face and eyes.

"But you chose not to tell me when they advised against voiding the Accord immediately. Why?"

"It didn't seem important. It was irrelevant. You were free for all practical purposes."

"It didn't seem important for me to know that I was still legally bound to you?"

"That's not it! I didn't want you to feel obligated anymore. You were so happy being free. I couldn't take that from you again." Ztar shook his head. "I couldn't do it!"

"But if I was truly free for all practical purposes as you say, what would be the harm in telling me?"

"I was afraid of how you'd react."

"Perhaps having the Accord still in effect gives you a legal safety net for the next year to make sure I stay." Warren looked hard at Ztar with the accusation.

Ztar's eyes grew wide and his face paled. "No, Archangel! Never that! I gave you my word – you are free. I will never take that from you again. By the gods, please believe me."

"Ztar, you betrayed me. You didn't trust me enough to tell me that the Accord remained in effect. You withheld information about my home and my legal status by choice. You lied to me by omission." Warren's ire rose again.

"I know, Archangel. It was wrong. All I can say in my defense is that my intentions were to shield you from what I knew could be painful. I didn't want you back under the Accord. I couldn't bear the thought of you feeling that weight. You carried it for four years – I wasn't about to place that burden on your shoulders again."

Warren watched Ztar and considered his next words. "I deserved to know what you chose not to tell me. No matter how honorable your intentions to spare me, I still deserved to know. It was my right. I can deal with the Accord still being in effect. I understand about legal precedents and why your lawyers would recommend what they did. I believe you when you say that it's a technicality and that I'm free for all intents and purposes. But you didn't trust me with that information. By not trusting me, you betrayed me."

"No, Archangel. My decision was not about trust. I wanted to protect you."

"No, you were afraid of losing me. You didn't trust me to stay." Warren was firm in his belief.

Ztar was silent for many long seconds. "Maybe I was," he said quietly. "Maybe I lied to myself about why I didn't tell you. But I felt I failed you when I followed their advice to keep the Accord in force. I should have insisted it be voided immediately. The Accord is so different from every other agreement; it should have been an exception. But I didn't argue – I just went along with what they told me."

Warren looked directly into Ztar's eyes. "Ztar, you allowed me to believe something that was not true. That was wrong – you should have told me what was happening. It would have upset me, true, but I would have accepted your explanation. But because you didn't tell me, it makes me doubt your motives. Lies do that, Ztar. They are almost always more hurtful than the truth."

"What I did was wrong, no matter how I justified in my mind. I know that. All I can do is ask for your forgiveness," Ztar pleaded his case.

"I must say, I never suspected a thing. You were very good at hiding it from me. That worries me, too – that you deceived me so easily."

"Because I believed it didn't matter about the Accord. You were free in my mind and that was my reality. As Emperor, I'm used to that, Archangel. When I say something is to be so, it is. I said you were free and so you were – to me anyway."

Warren contemplated that reasoning, trying to put himself in the Emperor's place. In a way, it made sense. When you have ultimate power, your word is law.

"That's makes an odd kind of sense. I accept your explanation." Warren sighed, choosing to let go of his anger.

Relief washed across Ztar's face, but he still remained tense. The Emperor took a long draw of Dison as he apparently waited for Warren to break the silence. A few quiet moments passed before Warren spoke again. A thought had crept up in the course of their conversation and was nagging at him.

"Ztar, something bothers me about the Turzent-Earth Accord. I would guess very few people even know it exists." Ztar nodded in agreement, and Warren continued. "As you admit, it's such a different document. Its sole purpose is to make me your property and to guarantee my cooperation."

The detachment with which Archangel summed up his position under the Accord made Ztar's heart lurch. It drove home again how selfish and uncaring Ztar had been – how hard his heart was four years ago. He turned his attention back quickly to what Archangel was saying.

"That hardly falls into the same category as other treaties and accords. If you look at it in its most simplistic form, it's a contract between you and me. Am I right?"

Ztar blinked as his paradigm of the Accord shifted. Why hadn't he realized this before?

"By the gods, Archangel, you are right! I never thought of it that way, but it is. I always looked at it as a contract between Earth and my Empire, but it's not really, is it?"

"I haven't read the full document, Ztar, and I'm not an attorney, but it makes sense. Once Earth gave me to you, their part of the agreement would have been fulfilled. The rest of it should be about my compliance and the ramifications of not upholding my end. So if that's the case…"

"Then it's no longer a planetary agreement! In theory, you and I can dissolve the agreement by mutual agreement. And we have! We did three weeks ago." Ztar was obviously excited about the revelation.

"But why didn't your high-power counselors explore that angle?" Warren wanted to know.

"A very good question. They certainly should have thought of that." Now it was Ztar who was doubting motives, but of his legal staff.

"Ztar, you've read the Accord. What does it say?" Warren asked the obvious.

Ztar lowered his eyes. He felt ashamed of his lack of thoroughness. "I haven't read the document, not entirely."

"What?" Warren was stunned.

"That's what I have negotiators and counselors for. I told them what it was to say and they did the rest."

"Ztar, we need to read the document before jumping to any conclusions. There may be more to it than we know."

Ztar was suddenly very uneasy. "Archangel, if there is more to the Accord than what you just said, then I am indeed concerned!"

###

The Chef watched with delight as the bags of coffee were hauled from the shuttle into dry storage. The aroma nearly overwhelmed the room. The Chef breathed in the scent of the roasted beans deeply and smiled.

"Just in time for the festival!" he proclaimed to Warren. "I want to introduce it then – see how many others like it. Several of my staff have sampled it. The slight bitterness is what some didn't care for, but others enjoyed it as much as I do."

"Yep, it can be an acquired taste. Remember what I said about adding sweetener or a cream of some sort. I did ask that they send a couple boxes of dry creamer – feel free to try it. Hopefully, you can find something similar through Niat."

As the last goods were deposited, Warren and the Chef walked out of the storeroom. "The grinders and coffeemakers will need to be modified to run off palace power. I'll let maintenance know to see you about that right away. My company sent the large, restaurant-sized equipment, so you should be able to serve quite a number of people quickly. When maintenance has them running, comm me and I'll come down and read through the operating manuals with you."

Delme agreed. "There is little time before the festival to learn how to operate the equipment. I will need your assistance most definitely."

Warren left the kitchens to head back to his own chambers. There should be a special box waiting for him from the shuttle and he was anxious to open it. Sure enough, a large tub with his name on it sat on the table.

Removing the lid, he began taking out pieces of his life on Earth and it affected him more deeply than he had anticipated. On the top were a picture of his parents and a photo of the original X-men – Scott, Bobby, Jean, Hank, and him all in X-men garb. A note was taped to the back "We miss you!" signed by everyone in the picture, plus a few of the others at the mansion, including Charles. Warren blinked back a tear. 'Someday, I'll see you all again. I promise.'

Turning the picture back over, he examined the image carefully, reminiscing. 'God, those first uniforms were awful!' he chuckled quietly. He remembered the day Charles had taken the photo and then gave a framed copy to each of his students.

Setting the photo down, he dug into the box, finding the books he requested; his iPod, its speakers, headphones, and plenty of batteries; a few of his favorite candy bars; his preferred toiletry items; and several other assorted items from his suite at the mansion.

The clothing items he requested were nestled at the very bottom. 'Blue jeans and t-shirts!' he nearly whooped. 'How I've missed you! Turzent civilization is very advanced, but they are primitives when it comes to clothing,' he remarked to himself. 'Nothing even close to a good pair of jeans to be found in the whole damn Empire!' Then he had to correct himself, 'Except on Earth – it's part of the Empire.'

Beneath the several pairs of blue jeans was a new pair of his all-time favorite sneakers. 'Life's complete, at least clothingwise!'

It was a good day for Warren, a photo of dear friends, coffee, old worn jeans, t-shirts, and sneakers. 'Amazing how much the little things mean.' Then he busied himself putting away his treasures.

###

It was festival day and everyone in the palace was in a good mood. H'ton Me Rzyr celebrated the coming of the rainy season, ushering in cooler weather and renewal of life that had hung on during the hot, dry summer. The opening ceremony would take place mid-afternoon with the grand meal to immediately follow. Warren looked forward to seeing two of the guests that had been invited from Yaunra – Atichi and Niat. This would be the first time Warren met Niat's spouse.

Chef Delme's kitchens were a flurry of activity as Warren walked in. Breakfast had been served, but the mid-day meal had not in lieu of the afternoon feast. Spying the Chef at one of the workstations, Warren called out his name over the noise of the kitchen.

"Archangel! A moment please," Delme answered, then continued his instructions to an assistant before moving to another workstation, wiping his hands on a work cloth.

"Chef, don't mean to interrupt, but wanted to make sure you and your staff are planning to join us for the ceremony." Warren knew this was a touchy point with the kitchen staff. They were always caught in the midst of the last minute food preparation while everyone else was outside watching the opening ceremony. In the past, the "bringing of the feast" immediately followed the ceremony, leaving no time for Delme's staff to participate. Warren was determined that would not be the case on his watch.

"Archangel," Delme said as he checked on whatever was cooking on the massive stove, "I just don't see how we can spare the time!"

"The bringing of the food will just have to wait a few minutes. The other heads of staff know this and agree with the reasoning."

"It breaks with tradition!" Delme argued as he checked the work of one of the lesser chefs.

Warren wandered closer to Delme. "Some traditions should be let go. You and your staff have worked extremely hard and deserve to participate in the ceremony."

By this time, the kitchen staff was listening and watching intently. Warren could see in their expressions the hope that their boss would allow them to witness the opening event. Warren hated to put Delme on the spot like this in front of his staff, but it may be the only way to get the man to agree. Previous urgings by Warren hadn't worked.

Delme huffed and stirred a pot of something with intensity. The tug between tradition and the desire to participate in the ceremony was played out on his face and in his body language, as was his likely irritation at Warren for putting him in an awkward position.

"Chef, let's just try it this year. See how it goes. If things don't work well, we can always go back to the old way next year." Warren was now standing directly across the stove from Delme, the flurry of activity buzzing around the two men. Warren gave Delme his most encouraging smile. "It will be good for your staff – they worked hard."

"Chef Delme, we'd like to go," said one brave soul from the back of the kitchen.

"Yes, Chef. I'd love to finally see the ceremony!" said another.

The kitchen suddenly became quiet. Delme looked around at this staff, then sighed. "Very well. But immediately – and I mean immediately – after the ceremony, you are to return here. I expect nothing less than double-time effort to get the food upstairs!"

"Yes!" "Thanks, Chef!" and various other thank yous swept through the room.

"Thank you, Chef. It was the right decision," Warren said quietly and turned to the leave the room.

"Thank you, Archangel," one of the lesser chefs said softly as he passed by. And then another thanked him and another as he exited. Warren felt very good about his pruning off of that old tradition that seemed to no longer serve a purpose. Moit'de would be proud!

With that mission accomplished, Warren had completed his tasks for the day. Now he could relax and enjoy the activities as they unfolded. He was keenly interested in witnessing the alien festival and its customs. Reading about it is one thing, participating is another.

A while later, with the start of the ceremony only a short time away, Warren decided to hunt down Atichi and Niat. Palace staff and those invited from Yaunra milled around the reflecting pool, talking and enjoying a variety of beverages. Inside the palace, the reception area had been turned into a banquet hall and was filled with tables set for the feast. As was tradition Warren learned, the royal court, their spouses (had there been any), and any most honored guests would sit at a round table in the center of the room with everyone else sitting at square tables surrounding them.

As he exited the palace from a side door, Warren decided to cheat and took to the air just a few feet up to more easily spot his target. Sharp eyes quickly found Atichi deep in conversation with Niat. He landed to head in their direction. Along the way, he said his hellos and enjoy the festival greetings to staff members, most of whom he now recognized and could even put names to.

"Atichi. Niat. Welcome!" he called warmly as he approached.

"Archangel!" they said in unison. "May the winds bring rain to your lands," Niat said in the traditional H'ton Me Rzyr greeting.

"And to each of yours," Warren replied back as was custom to both Niat and Atichi.

Niat gently wrapped his arm around the woman who could only be his spouse. "Splythe, please know Archangel of the Royal Court of Ztar," he introduced formally.

Warren was slightly taken aback by how the words sounded. It was the first time he had heard the very traditional introduction spoken. He'd read about it, but Ztar and those he surrounded himself with tended to not be so formal. It was always odd to hear himself referred to as a member of Court.

Splythe bowed her head. "Archangel, please recognize Splythe, my favored spouse," Niat continued.

Archangel did not bow his head in return, that was to be done only by those being introduced to a member of Court. "Splythe is a beautiful name," he smiled, "reflecting the beauty of its owner," he said in a very safe, but flattering response. Another traditional phrase he had read about to be used under these circumstances.

"You honor me," Splythe said, smiling in return.

Warren turned to Atichi, "How have you been?"

"I'd be a lot better if you'd come for a visit!" she laughed. Atichi wasn't one for formality. "To answer your question, I am well. And how are you?" she inquired.

Atichi was very obviously studying Warren's face for any nonverbal clues. "I'm settling," he answered truthfully.

Atichi hesitated a moment, then smiled. "That is good news."

Niat had been closely watching the exchange, Warren realized. How much he was privy to, Warren could not know.

"Archangel, my friend," Niat jumped in, formality had quickly been dispensed with, "you do not have a drink in hand. Allow me to take care of that," he offered summoning a server. Dison was a commonly enjoyed beverage and was one of the selections on the server's tray. Warren took his drink and a sip.

"Business picking up now that the heat of summer is easing?" Warren asked the food purveyor.

"Yes indeed. You can tell as soon as the visitors start coming again. So many questions! What's this? How do you prepare that? Tell me what you recommend. And on it goes," he chuckled. "But it's what keeps me going, right Splythe?" he asked looking over at his spouse.

"You love it!" she said. "Anyone that seeks your advice is welcome in the shop," Splythe teased with a grin and a twinkle in her eyes.

Just then the chime sounded signaling everyone to migrate toward the reflecting pool. A large bonfire stack filled a fire circle inset into the patio surface at the far end of the pool. A small riser platform was placed between pool and the fire ring where Ztar would stand to call the rains.

Once everyone was gathered, another chime sounded and Ztar stepped from the palace's grand reception hall, blazing torch in hand. Quiet settled over the crowd. One of Moit'de's staff had been selected to walk ahead of the Emperor, spreading seeds on the ground as the processional advanced. Two others followed behind reciting a low, rhythmic intonement as the foursome made their way toward the far end of the reflecting pool. All three processional positions were an honor and highly hoped for amongst the staff.

The Emperor was dressed in ceremonial attire, a long tunic of richly colored tapestry that hung nearly to his knees with pants in the deep royal green and a wide, ornate belt cinched in his waist. The torch was deeply carved out of a material to Warren's eyes resembled ebony.

As the procession reached the end of the patio, Ztar stepped up onto the riser and faced the gathering that lined the pool sides. The crowd remained quiet as Ztar began the ceremony, raising the torch toward the heavens.

"Blessed Sat'rey, giver of life, I ask for your ear to hear the voices of your people through me. I call upon the rains of your skies to fall and bring forth life. I call upon your winds to blow with favor. I call upon the ground of your lands to be fertile and bountiful. I call upon your gods to bless us with health and prosperity. These things I ask in the name of all people!"

Having finished the brief invocation, the Emperor lowered the torch, turned and stepped from the riser to approach the fire ring.

"Let fire cleanse the land, bringing forth renewal and rebirth!" Ztar proclaimed loudly as he touched the torch to the bonfire and stepped back. He watched for a few moments as fire quickly climbed the stack.

Then unlike any fire Warren had seen before, this one began to ignite into an ever-changing swirl of colors and light. Something must have been added to the bonfire other than wood, he surmised. The result was mesmerizing and the crowd watched transfixed as the fiery display grew, multiple colors flickered brilliantly, even in the sunlight. Flames of red, yellow, green, and purple twirled and danced their way into the sky. The gathering oohed and ahhed in appreciation. When the fire seemed to reach it most fierce, Ztar returned to the riser.

"Now let us follow in our ancestors' tradition and celebrate the coming season with food and drink in the company of those we hold dear!"

And with that, the crowd began talking excitedly and moving back toward the palace, anticipating an evening of too much food, maybe too much drink, and a heavy serving of merriment.

Warren caught a glimpse of a couple of Delme's staff members literally running back into the palace through a side door. He had to smile, glad they had been able to see the short ceremony. As he moved with Atichi, Niat, and Splythe leisurely into the palace, a twinge ran through him – almost like a nerve zing. 'Odd,' he commented to himself, but thought nothing more about it.

Once everyone was back inside, they took their time settling at the tables. Warren had made sure everyone knew that the kitchen staff would need a little more time this year. The foursome joined Sukja and Ztar, who were already approaching the head table.

"Greetings and welcome to our little gathering!" Ztar said with enthusiasm to Atichi, Niat, and Splythe. "Please sit."

Like magic, as soon as the royal court began sitting, so did everyone else. Just as Warren was wondering how much longer Delme's crew would need, the Chef appeared and rang the festival bell that signaled the bringing of the food. Food service staff then filed into the grand reception, each carrying a large tray heaped with foods. The crowd awed as delights to the nose and eyes circled the room so everyone could see all of the offerings.

As was tradition, the royal table was served first, with plates that had been filled ahead of time. Everyone else would be served as the plates were filled and delivered to the tables. The eating, drinking, talking, and laughing went well into the night as all in attendance did their best to honor H'ton Me Rzyr.

###

Warren's day had not gone well. For starters, when he pulled his favorite pair of worn blue jeans from his wardrobe he was shocked to see that the palace laundry staff had seen fit to repair the small tears and holes. Sacrilege! Then when he explained the misguided mending to Rja, she got huffy. "Why would anyone walk around in torn clothing? On purpose no less? I fail to see why this upsets you, especially since you failed to inform my laundry of the special care requirements!" She had him on that one. Few on Earth would think to fix the battle scars, but this was not Earth. She did offer to have her staff remove the mends as best they could. Still, repaired was repaired. The jeans may never be the same.

His meeting with Delme went better, though the Chef was complaining the Niat was pressuring him about the coffee. The food purveyor was quite taken by the beverage he had tried at the festival and wanted to get his hands on some. Delme was tired of being commed nearly every day by Niat about the issue. Would Warren kindly make that issue go away? "I didn't know he would be so insistent about it!" the Chef grumbled at the problem that was his own fault. "I explained it was for palace consumption only, but apparently Niat is tenacious when he finds something he wants."

Moit'de later snagged Warren. One of his senior gardeners was leaving palace employment to start his own business. Would Warren sit in on the selection of a new senior staff member?

Then Sukja told him that a delegation from the Cassanian System requested and was granted a special audience with the Emperor and would to arrive the day after tomorrow. Staff needed to prepare quickly for that visit.

Ztar had already informed him over breakfast that a delegation from the Parma-Sentois system would be visiting in two weeks. They were a nearby system (in interstellar terms anyway) that was perhaps interested in joining the Empire now that Ztar was changing its form of government. It was only a fact-finding mission for the Par-Sen, as they referred to themselves, but it was a big deal. If they decided to join, it would be the first wholly voluntary member to the Empire.

"Likely, it will be a long process," Ztar had said between hurried bites of breakfast. His agenda was full today and he needed to get going. "But to have a system approach us this early is startling to say the least. It's flattering, but we need to know why they're coming to us. Outside threats? Trade problems? What is driving this? Caution will be required."

"I have to agree," Warren nodded. It would be too easy to allow oneself to believe the new Imperiocratic government was so appealing that people would come knocking at your door to join the club, but that would be naïve. Something was up with the Parma-Sentois system.

These and other issues he blamed for his rare headache. Normally, it was something his healing abilities did not allow for very long. Nevertheless, a headache was still what he had. Dull and nagging all day. The actual headache was almost less bothersome than the question of why his body was permitting it, but he put aside those concerns. Perhaps it was just an anomaly.

The jeans, the odd headache, the pending delegation visits, coffee-gate, and the typical issues of overseeing the operations of the Imperial residence added up to a tired and somewhat irritable human by evening.

It was late when Ztar finally returned to their chambers. Warren already downed one glass of Dison waiting for Ztar and he was now very hungry, adding to his general discomfort. Ztar had asked him to wait to dine with him, and he obliged. By the time Ztar showed up, he wished he hadn't as his stomach was growling.

"Archangel! Sorry to make you wait – I had not meant to be this late," the Emperor apologized as soon as he cleared the door. "Between the transition work and the Cassanian and Par-Sen visits, there aren't enough hours in the day!"

Warren sat quietly in the sitting area, watching Ztar as he headed toward the bedroom area to change. While Ztar seemed tense, it didn't feel like a bad tension – more just hyped up over all the activity happening in his world.

"Chef has our meal waiting. I just have to comm the kitchen. Would you like a glass of something before we eat?" Warren offered, hoping Ztar declined.

"No, no. Comm Delme and we'll eat right away," Ztar said removing his usual tunic top and tossing it into the hamper. "I know you must be very hungry by now." He turned to give Warren a quick smile.

Warren got up and ordered dinner to be delivered. The meal arrived quickly much to Warren's relief – he was ravenous. Dinner talk was the usual palace goings on, imperial news of the day, and the upcoming events.

By the time dinner was done, Warren just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep. Between the earlier Dison and the Sat'rey sanui they had with dinner, his long day, and the headache that still persisted, he was tired. Ztar had other ideas as he did nearly every night. The Emperor's sex drive was very healthy, Warren had concluded long ago. But tonight, Warren wasn't in the mood.

"Archangel," Ztar cooed as he propped himself on an elbow over Warren, running a hand down Warren's torso.

"Could we take the night off? I'm really not up to it." Warren hoped that Ztar wouldn't press, as he often did. When he did, Warren always ended up giving in.

Ztar looked down at Archangel. He really wanted the human. Thoughts of the pleasures Archangel could elicit had tantalized him all through dinner.

"I can help with that," Ztar said seductively in Warren's ear, his hand roving over a wing.

"Please, Ztar. Not tonight," Warren gently raised Ztar's face to look him in the eyes. "I'm not feeling up to it. Hard day at the office."

"Then all the more reason to enjoy ourselves tonight!" Ztar believed once Archangel relaxed and they started, all would progress nicely. Ztar moved his hand beneath Archangel to the most erogenous place on the wings near the base where the nerves were most densely packed. He was pleased when the usual shiver ran through his companion.

Warren knew that if Ztar continued, he would likely just submit as he always did. But he didn't want that. Tonight he wanted to exert his right to say no. There was no more Earth over his head; at least that is what Ztar vowed to him, regardless of the legal status of the Accord. Tonight, Warren would see if Ztar would respect "no" for the first time in four years.

Warren pushed on Ztar's upper arm to move it out from beneath him. Ztar resisted.

"Ztar, not tonight. Really, I mean it," Warren said with more conviction.

Ztar wasn't about to give up. Archangel always acquiesced. So he changed tactics and brought his mouth down sensually on the human's.

Warren pushed Ztar back with both hands. "No."

"Once we start, it will be good!" Ztar encouraged.

"Not tonight. I'm serious!" Warren was becoming annoyed.

"But I want you, Archangel. I've waited all day," and Ztar attempted another kiss, but Archangel turned his head. So he tried push his hand beneath his companion's back once again, but Archangel deflected the move.

Warren attempted to sit up, but Ztar prevented it by simply not moving out of the way. Ztar was much too strong for Warren to physically push aside if Ztar didn't wish it, so he didn't bother trying. Suddenly he was feeling trapped. Trapped beneath the Emperor and trapped under the weight of four years of submitting to the man above him.

"Ztar, just let me say no sometimes! Please, just once in awhile," his voice was suddenly shaky.

"But Archangel, we enjoy each other so much! Why-?"

Ztar felt his determination quickly evaporating when the tears sprang up in Archangel's eyes.

"In four years I've never denied you," the words trembled as they came out. "I- I need to know I can! That my freedom is real. _Please_!" Warren was overcome with emotion and he could say no more.

Ztar sat up and drew Archangel into his arms. Remorse filled him. 'Stop being a selfish bastard!' he told himself.

"Your freedom _is_ real, my Archangel. I'm sorry. Of course you can say no. Please forgive me!" Ztar felt moisture in his own eyes. As Archangel had told him once before, no is no. Ztar needed to listen to that, but once again he had nearly forgotten. Ztar released Archangel from the embrace and looked into the blue eyes brimming with tears.

To Warren it felt as though a shackle fell away. Such enormous relief – another step toward liberty. He took a deep breath of freedom.

"I just need some sleep, Ztar," he explained, seeing the pained look on the Emperor's face.

"I understand." Ztar ran his fingers through Archangel's hair, and smiled. "I wouldn't want my most treasured Imperial staff member to be overtired!"

"Where's that leave poor Sukja?" Warren teased, as much to regain his composure as to put Ztar at ease.

Ztar smirked. "Most steadfast?"

"So I'm your most treasured and Sukja your most steadfast. Gtar-Cro is going to be very upset."

Ztar laid down and Warren followed suit. "He's my most fierce. The General would like that."

"And the others?" Warren asked quietly.

Ztar thought for a minute. "Stjarmas'de is my most cunning. Myrundra definitely the most eloquent. Rehsaw most decisive, and e'Troz would have to be most pragmatic." Then Ztar rolled to his side and looked at Archangel. "You could give e'Troz a run for his money, though."

'Yep, that's me. Pragmatic to the point that I'm laying here with a man who I have every reason to loath and yet I'm trying to help him heal for the sake of an Empire.' But Warren kept the thought to himself. "That's quite an impressive line up," he said instead.

"Surround yourself with the best…"

"Hmm," Warren acknowledged, feeling sleep pulling at him. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to go with the tug.

"Good night, my most treasured Archangel," Ztar said softly.

"'night," Warren said repositioning to his side and curling up, wings to Ztar.

Ztar listened to Archangel's breathing quickly deepen. The human had been very tired to fall asleep so quickly. He chastised himself again for nearly pushing Archangel to do more than he had wanted. Archangel had to come to tears before Ztar had realized how selfish he was being. He vowed never again to be that insensitive to Archangel's needs as he drifted to sleep.

###

The next day brought the first significant rain of the season, complete with lightening and thunder. Just as well – Warren felt unusually tired when he woke and likely wouldn't have gone for a flight anyway. It was beginning to trouble Warren that he just couldn't shake a general feeling of fatigue. He attributed it to the tension of the Par-Sen visit to start that day and that he hadn't been sleeping well the last few nights.

The delegation would stay at the palace for one night and one full day before heading back to their home system. First would be the delegation's early evening arrival with Ztar and Myrundra greeting the representatives. Cocktails would be served immediately while waiting to dine. After dinner, the delegation would be treated to live music and other entertainment in the grand reception hall before retiring. Tomorrow, business would be done and talks were scheduled for all day. The delegation was scheduled to depart mid-afternoon.

While the Par-Sens were visiting, Warren saw very little of Ztar. The night of the delegation's arrival, Warren retired as soon as he knew there was nothing left for him to do. Ztar, Myrundra, and Stjarmas'de were still talking quietly with the Par-Sen representatives in the grand reception when Warren headed upstairs to their chambers.

As he changed clothes, he noticed his right hand trembled slightly and seemed almost numb, but he was too exhausted to give it more thought. As soon as he crawled into bed, he fell asleep. He never heard Ztar come in for the night.

The following day was all about the meetings, so aside from ensuring a consistent supply of liquids and food was available for the participants, there wasn't nearly as much for Warren to worry about. The day seemed very long and he looked forward to the delegation's departure when he could breathe a sigh of relief.

The shuttle lifted off on schedule late that afternoon, taking the Par-Sen delegation to their ship in orbit around Sat'rey. Relief swept over Warren – they got through without any significant faux paus or problems. Palace staff once again shined and made Ztar proud.

As Ztar, Myrundra, and several other advisors moved toward the conference room to debrief, Warren headed to his chambers. The headache had grown quite intense in the last hour and he had general body pain. Warren was worried. He should not have a headache or any kind of aches. Something was not right. He decided to change clothes in his chambers and then head downstairs to see Ztar's physician.

By the time he walked the length of the palace to their chambers, Warren felt lightheaded and weak. The door opened at his bio-sig and he took a couple steps into the room. A sudden wave of intense vertigo hit him and he had to go to his knees to keep from falling down. Nausea washed over him and he thought he might vomit, but it passed quickly. The headache racketed up about three notches and he held his head against the pain. Now he knew something was very wrong.

Warren tried to get to his feet, but the vertigo returned instantly. Pain suddenly shot through his body, running from his head, down his neck and back to his toes and fingers. It felt like every nerve in his body was on fire. It drove him to the floor again. He had to get to the comm, but his body was not cooperating. His arms and legs felt as though they weighed a thousand pounds. The pain in his head was blinding and he began to panic. What was happening! Another shooting pain raced through him and he curled up on the floor against it. Blackness was closing in and he attempted one more time to reach the comm on the wall. Just a few more inches. Then blackness swallowed him.

###


	13. Chapter 13

_I hope this chapter speaks for itself…_

**Chapter Thirteen**

Heading to his chambers, Ztar was pleased with the Par-Sen visit in general, but concerned with what he had possibly discovered about the star system's enemies. What had particularly caught Ztar's interest was a name he pulled from the mind of a Par-Sen delegate: Shozen. That was one of the aliases the Etagllot organization had used in the past. It was yet another sign that the elicit group may have resurrected. That disconcerting tidbit he would forward to Gtar-Cro, but it would keep until tomorrow. Ztar had had enough for one day. Tonight, he'd relax with Archangel and maybe Sukja over dinner and talk about less stressful topics.

The chamber door slid silently open and he took only one step inside when he saw Archangel on the floor.

"Archangel!!" his voice boomed. Kneeing next to his companion, he felt for a pulse and breathing. Ztar let out a breath upon detecting each, but both were much slower than they should be. And Archangel felt very warm.

Shaking, Ztar reached out mentally to connect his physician, feeding him telepathically as much as Ztar knew as Vozeipar'de immediately headed to the infirmary to prepare for his patient. Ztar picked up the unconscious human and made his way to the lower level as quickly as possible without jostling Archangel. His heart raced – Archangel should not be ill. His healing abilities should not allow that!

Laying Archangel down tenderly on the examination bed, he now saw how pale his companion was and he grew more fearful. The breathing was labored and shallow. How long had Archangel laid unconscious? Had he tried to reach out to Ztar and Ztar had been too busy to notice?

"Whatever it takes, Vozeipar'de, you will find out what's wrong!"

Of course Vozeipar'de would do whatever was necessary to determine what had felled the human, but the physician was not offended. Ztar was extremely distressed and people say odd things under those conditions.

"Ztar, it would be best for you to wait either outside or quietly in the corner. My assistant is on her way and we will find out what is wrong with Archangel," he reassured.

Ztar moved to the chair in the corner of the treatment room just as the physician's assistant came running in. He watched as diagnostic equipment was activated and monitors sprang to life. Vozeipar'de spoke instructions to the medical computer on what scans and readings to take and display. Everything seemed to take an eternity. Ztar focused on the readings for Archangel's heart and breathing, they were slowing, while his body temperature went up a notch.

"He grows worse!" Ztar couldn't contain himself any longer, rising from the chair.

"We're watching carefully, my Emperor. We will intercede if necessary," the physician replied calmly.

Vozeipar'de's calmness irritated Ztar. The physical wasn't working fast enough! Ztar moved toward the bed.

"My Emperor, might I suggest that you contact Sukja and have him come down. It may be comforting to have someone to wait with you." Vozeipar'de really wanted Sukja to keep the Emperor at bay while he worked.

"There's nothing he can do…"

Vozeipar'de turned toward his assistant. "Would you comm Sukja?" and she did.

Scanning results began displaying. Ztar watched the viewscreen – negative, negative, negative. All the results were negative! What could possibly be wrong with his beloved?

"Don't forget poison, Vozeipar'de!" Ztar offered urgently.

"It's part of the standard diagnostic panel, Emperor. So far that, too, is negative."

Suddenly, Archangel's body went tense and his back arched. Seizure! Ztar thought his heart would stop. The human's heart rate went very high as the seizure gripped him. Vozeipar'de laid a device across Archangel's forehead and activated it.

Just as Archangel's seizure passed, Sukja entered the infirmary, out of breath from running.

"Ztar, what is wrong?!" Sukja looked at Archangel and his chest tightened. "What happened?!"

"We don't know! Everything is negative. I found him unconscious on the floor of our chambers!" Ztar's voice was filled with fear as he moved closer to the bed. "If anything happens to him…"

"Perhaps it would be best for both of you to sit in the waiting area just outside. Let us do our work," Vozeipar'de said looking at Sukja.

"He's right, Ztar. Let's go sit."

"No! I'm not moving. I won't leave him!" Ztar was determined to remain.

"We're distracting Vozeipar'de. Is that what you want, my Emperor?" Sukja pointed out calmly.

Ztar looked at his companion. The heartbeat and breathing readings had dipped again. And the brainwave activity patterns seemed to have changed slightly also since the seizure. That couldn't be good.

"He grows worse by the minute!"

Sukja took the Emperor's forearm gently. "We'll be right outside the door, Ztar."

Then Sukja had a thought. "Vozeipar'de, do you think it would be harmful for Ztar to telepathically monitor Archangel?"

The physician thought carefully for a moment, looking at the brain pattern readings. "If don't know with certainty, but I don't believe it would be harmful. Keep the telepathic level shallow, for now. If I see anything unusual in the brain patterns once you start, you will need to withdraw."

"Agreed." Ztar said and he immediately connected with Archangel's mind, but he did not probe. Archangel's mind felt like it was in a deep, dreamless sleep. The feeling was actually calming. To Ztar, Archangel's presence felt like a glowing ember – warm, alive but subdued, and not aware.

"It feels like he's asleep," Ztar explained.

"Good. That's what I'd expect in his unconscious state," the physician explained. "Now please, go sit outside. I will speak with you as soon as I know more or something changes."

"Chenro," Ztar addressed the physician by his first name. "Archangel must live."

"I will do everything in my power to make that happen, my Emperor."

###

The waiting was interminable. Ztar did not sit – he could not. He tried not to think about the unthinkable. Archangel would recover; he would accept no other outcome. Silently, he prayed in desperation to the gods he had prayed to only a few times before.

Sukja watched as Ztar paced. He approached the treatment room door numerous times as if to barge in, but then turned away. He said countless times to Sukja that the telepathic connection remained unchanged and wondered what was taking so long. Sukja knew Ztar could take whatever information he desired from the physician's mind, but likely didn't want to risk distracting Vozeipar'de, even though that risk should be slight.

Worst case scenarios ran through Sukja's mind. What had Archangel in such a grip that neither his incredible immune system and healing ability or the inoculations given him four years ago aboard the Mi-Lartui were effective? Was it a poison – intentional or otherwise? Or perhaps something else altogether?

"What could this _be_, Sukja?" Ztar asked as if he had been reading Sukja's mind.

"Vozeipar'de will find whatever it is."

Ztar continued to pace slowly.

"You're right. Chenro is very, very good. We have all the best equipment here, too," Ztar's reply seemed to be meant to self-reassure.

"That is all true, my Emperor. Archangel couldn't be in better hands."

Ztar paced in silence for awhile, then he spoke suddenly as if vocalizing the second half of a thought. "Why didn't I insist he see Chenro?!"

"My Emperor?"

"There were signs, Sukja. Little things that I see now. The nights he was so tired. His headaches and body pains I felt through our connection, but I didn't think they meant anything. They were minor, I thought. How could I have been so oblivious? I should have known better!"

"Everyone gets tired and has occasional aches. It's nothing that would draw attention-"

Ztar cut him off. "Not Archangel, Sukja. Think about it! His healing ability prevents all those things."

Sukja realized the Emperor was likely right. "But they were obviously little things, nothing that shouted for attention or Archangel would have come to see Vozeipar'de himself, I'm sure of it."

Ztar stood still and looked at Sukja, his face and eyes filled with pain. "He never complains, Sukja. Not about feeling ill, not about me, not about what I've done to him." Ztar's eyes filled with tears. "He is so courageous. So-" Ztar's eyes grew wide and he grew suddenly pale.

"Ztar…?" Sukja's heart went to his throat.

"Archangel…I felt him slip deeper! I must go in there, now!" and Ztar was at the door in two swift steps, but before he could activate it, the door slid open. Vozeipar'de was on the other side. The look on the physician's face was not encouraging.

"Chenro?" Ztar's voice was imploring.

"Let's sit, my Emperor."

"NO! Tell me now!" The Emperor's voice boomed.

The physician inhaled and began. "Archangel has contracted a rare virus that causes the illness known as Wynnar-Qxani Disease. The virus attacks the nervous system."

Sukja had gotten up and stood next to Ztar. "What exactly does that mean for Archangel?" the attendant asked.

"Please, let's sit and I'll explain everything," it was more of a command than a request.

Once seated, Vozeipar'de continued. "Wynnar-Qxani behaves differently depending on the individual. Some people can be a carrier of the virus and never develop the illness. Most often, though, once exposed the person eventually becomes ill. However, the virus is typically dormant for weeks or months before any signs of illness are seen. The virus multiplies in the body during that time, somehow avoiding detection by the host's immune system, but in all other ways is inactive. It attaches itself to the nervous system and sits there until triggered. Once triggered, the victim succumbs quite rapidly as the nervous system is destroyed."

"What triggers it?" Sukja injected.

"Often another illness or sometimes stress. Many times the trigger is unknown – we just don't know with certainty."

"But Archangel received all the standard inoculations fours years ago. You administered them yourself!" Ztar countered.

"Yes, but W-Q is not part of the standard vaccinations. Typically, we don't see anyone with it from outside of the star system for which it's named. It's not contracted through casual contact and has been well contained for years. You both, as well as all high-ranking officials, are vaccinated for it as routine, as would anyone traveling to the W-Q star system. But the vaccine is not given to the general public outside its system of origin."

"Then how did Archangel end up with it?!"

"There is only one way to contract the virus – blood-to-blood exchange with a carrier." Vozeipar'de let that sit.

Sukja and Ztar exchanged puzzled glances, then Sukja realized where the statement lead.

"The rapes…" Sukja said in nearly a whisper.

"The most logical conclusion. One of Drex's men must have been a carrier. Unless there is some other time when Archangel would have been injured and had direct blood-to-blood contact with someone."

"What is the prognosis?" Ztar asked quietly.

Sukja noticed the hesitation in the physician. That did not bode well and he grew extremely anxious.

"My Emperor, I've already contacted the medical research facility that is most experienced in Wynnar-Qxani. They are working on treatment options…" he voice trailed off.

"What about Archangel's healing ability? Why isn't it working?" Sukja asked.

"Perhaps his robust immune defenses would be able to overcome another alien virus. But Archangel's immune system is human and this virus is not from Earth. His body isn't capable of fighting this one off. The human antibodies and other immune defenses aren't compatible so to speak with the alien virus. There are signs, though, that his body may have actually detected the virus and has attempted to attack it for some time. It's also clear that his healing ability has been trying to keep up with the damage the reawakening virus is inflicting, but it is now overwhelmed by the rapidly multiplying virus. The fever tells us that his immune system and healing ability are still trying to cope, but he is completely overrun with the virus."

"If we can inoculate against it, there must be a treatment!" Ztar said incredulously.

"The vaccine is quite effective preventing the virus from settling into the body, so to speak, but once it has aligned itself with the nervous system of its host, the vaccine and other treatments become ineffective. Why that is the case, remains a medical mystery. Fjai Medical Research staff continues to work on finding the answers that could lead to a cure. But until then…" the physician let his voice trail off.

Sukja fought hard to maintain control of his emotions. "Are you telling us that Archangel may not survive? With all the technology and medicine at our disposal? There's no _cure_?" Sukja wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. A sickening shiver ran through his body.

Pain and regret were evident in Vozeipar'de face and body language. "In a typical case, after the virus has become fully active, it moves fast. In its mostly dormant phase, it has already spread throughout the body. Once triggered, the patient succumbs very quickly. The virus disrupts the nervous system and ultimately shuts it down. There is no medicine, no cure. In Archangel's case, the virus has multiplied beyond what any other person would experience and still be alive due to his healing abilities. But that ability has lost the fight, the damage is happening more quickly than his body can repair the damage."

Ztar shot from his chair. "NO!" he bellowed so loudly that the walls nearly shook. "Archangel will not die! I won't allow it!"

Ztar bolted toward the treatment room, but stopped just before opening the door. When he turned back to Sukja and Vozeipar'de, the look on his face broke Sukja's heart.

"You will find a way, physician! I command it! You and whoever you have to work with will not let Archangel die, do you hear me? Whatever it takes!" then he activated the door and went to Archangel's bedside.

Archangel was so still, so pale. Monitors and support equipment surrounded him. All the readings that Ztar understood were much too low, much too abnormal. Blood pressure, heart rate, breathing – none looked good. Ztar approached the bed, took Archangel's hand into his and squeezed. The hand was hot with fever.

"My Archangel, can you hear me?" Ztar ask, placing his other hand on his companion's shoulder.

Sukja and Vozeipar'de entered the room.

"What are you doing to help him right now?" Ztar demanded.

"It's all supportive from this point and I'm using drugs and other techniques to slow the advance. The staff at Fjai is working on options."

"I want to probe deeper, Chenro. I want to connect with him."

If the physician was going to protest, he decided against it Sukja guessed watching Vozeipar'de closely. After all, if the patient was already dying, why deny the request?

Vozeipar'de nodded his approval, and moved away to give the Emperor his privacy. Sukja sat in the corner to wait and watch. This all happened so quickly! It wasn't real – like a horrible dream. Everything had been so perfect. Now their world was crumbling. He wanted to cry for Archangel, Ztar, and himself, but he would not. He needed to be strong for Ztar.

Ztar pulled at the bed next to Archangel's and dragged it close enough that he could sit on that near to his companion. Clutching Archangel's hand, he sat and watched his beloved struggle to breathe. Then he dipped deeper into Archangel's mind to find the human.

The physical world dropped away as Ztar immersed himself in Archangel. Ztar's mind joined with Archangel's in a construct to frame his immersion into something they could both navigate. The scene was a mountain plateau. A field of wildflowers nestled amongst tall snowcapped peaks. It was bright like a sunny day, but there was no sun – just light. It was a beautiful place – tranquil like the part of Archangel's mind where Ztar had so often dipped into maintain control in times past. However, as Ztar looked more closely out beyond the plateau, an inky darkness loamed. Archangel stood off a short distance away. He glowed slightly in a warm, golden tone.

"Ztar!" Archangel called out warmly.

"My beloved!" and Ztar walked toward Archangel, across the colorful flowers and grasses.

"Something is wrong, Ztar. I feel it," Archangel said as Ztar approached, but he did not look worried.

Ztar's emotions nearly overwhelmed him, but he fought them down for Archangel.

"You are sick, my beloved. But you'll be well soon! The physicians are working on it."

Archangel closed the remaining gap between them and looked up at Ztar.

"What happened? I remember being in our chambers, the pain and then… I don't remember after that," Archangel seemed more puzzled than concerned.

"I found you unconscious. You have a virus – that's what caused the pain. You're in the infirmary now. Vozeipar'de will make you better."

Archangel looked at Ztar and suspicion crossed his face. Then Archangel's face softened.

"No, Ztar," Archangel corrected gently. "I'm very ill. I feel it – know it. I'm not sure he can help." Archangel eyes focused beyond Ztar's shoulder to the blackness beyond the plateau edging closer.

In the physical world, Sukja jumped up as a monitor signal chimed and Vozeipar'de quickly approached Archangel's bed. The readings indicated that Archangel's vitals had dropped again and the brain wave patterns were becoming unstable. He ordered additional drugs, adjusted the life support equipment, and told his assistant to get Fjai on the comm.

In the non-physical world, Ztar felt a tremor run through the construct. "You'll get better, Archangel. Trust me. You just need to believe it!"

Archangel backed slightly away. "Ztar, listen to me. My time is short," Archangel looked into Ztar's eyes and laid his hand on Ztar's chest.

"No! You will not leave me!" Pain stabbed deep to Ztar's soul.

"I have little to say about that, Ztar. I'm so sorry. I wouldn't leave you if I had a choice. But don't be angry, please. Don't turn this into a reason to go back to what you were. I'm proud of how much you've changed. I beg you to continue down that path. Honor me with that and I will always be with you."

Another tremor shook the construct and the blackness was now at the edge of the plateau. A wind kicked up and Archangel's hair tousled.

Ztar looked at his most beloved Archangel and he was lost to the pain. "No, please don't leave me! I won't survive without you!" The Emperor's knees gave out and he collapsed to the ground. Archangel knelt beside him.

"You will survive, Ztar. You'll go on to be an Emperor that your people want. They need you right now to make your dream reality. You must be strong for them. And for me! I need to know that dream comes true. That it was all worth it."

Archangel's voice was becoming weak and his image not so solid. The glow was fading. He leaned toward Ztar and kissed him gently. Ztar grabbed him and took in the kiss. When their lips parted, he wrapped his arms around the human desperately. The plateau shook and the blackness was now not so far away from them. The wind had become wild and whipped around them.

Archangel pulled away from Ztar, the Emperor's physical strength having no power in the construct. "You need to go now, my Emperor. It's not good for you to be here with me any longer."

Archangel's image no longer glowed. He looked frail and drawn. The blackness was so very close.

"I will not leave you alone, Archangel. I am staying! You can survive this – I'll help!"

Sukja looked at Vozeipar'de with concern. Ztar was still deeply inside Archangel's mind and all monitors were indicating that death was imminent.

"Ztar should pull out, Sukja. I don't know what happens when a telepath is deep within another's mind when they die. I fear it could be bad!"

Sukja gently shook Ztar's shoulder to gain his attention, but Ztar remained unresponsive.

"Ztar, do you hear me? You need to leave Archangel now! Ztar!"

Nothing.

"I could turn on the psychic dampeners and activate the pattern that is Ztar's unique signature. That should break the link, but it's not without risk."

"Which is the greater risk – Ztar in Archangel's mind when the end comes or breaking the link?" Sukja asked, his heart racing at the thought of losing both Archangel and the Emperor.

"I would choose to use the dampeners, we can turn the intensity up gradually, dissolving the link in a more controlled manner."

"Do it!" Sukja commanded.

The plateau shook continuously now. Tendrils of blackness were reaching toward the pair on the ground.

"Ztar, please do this one last thing for me. Go now, please! You must." Archangel's voice was very weak.

Ztar looked at his most treasured and he wept freely. 'I love you! You saved me. You reawakened my soul!' He touched the beautiful face one last time. 'You are everything that makes life worth living,' the words coming not from his mouth for he could no longer speak in even in the construct.

The blackness was just feet away and all that was left of the plateau was the small circle of ground where they knelt.

'Honor me, Ztar. Do what's right by your people, by your friends, and by your future companions. Remember me.'

Blackness was now at just inches away. 'Go now. Please!' Archangel urged weakly, a slight smile crossing his face as he gently touched Ztar's.

Ztar felt his connection fading against his will. What was happening?! By the gods, he wasn't ready to leave!

Suddenly, Ztar was back in the infirmary. The lights were too bright – it hurt. Then he heard the warning chimes. Vozeipar'de was desperately working over Archangel, but the readings had dropped to near zero. Sukja had the Emperor's other hand clutched in his in a fierce grip.

Archangel let out one last exhale of air and everything flatlined. Vozeipar'de stepped back and gently shook his head.

"_Do_ something, Chenro!!" Ztar yelled. "He's dying! Can't you _see_!"

"I'm so very sorry, my Emperor," the physician said barely above a whisper.

###


	14. Chapter 14

_Okay, vacation or not, I had to post. Without further ado, here is the final chapter to our story._

**Chapter Fourteen and Finale**

Ztar was motionless, staring down at his companion in shock.

"No, my Archangel!! This is not happening! This cannot be real! I won't allow this to be!!" Ztar voice grew louder with each word. He reached out with his mind to find Archangel's, but there was nothing. His body began to shimmer. "Archangel, don't leave me!" he begged, leaning over his companion, stroking his head. "I will not survive. Please come back!"

Sukja quickly dropped Ztar's hand. He and Vozeipar'de were forced to move back as the energy field materialized around Ztar and grew. The medical equipment started flickering and snapping.

"Ztar! Your energy field!" the Ozjaerian called out as the field continued to build. Ztar did not respond. "Emperor, listen to me. Your energy field will hurt someone! Please stop!" Sukja cried as he, the physician, and the assistant all headed toward the door as the energy field expanded. It now encompassed Archangel's body, the bed, and the medical equipment, which sparked and smoked before going blank.

"He will not leave me!!" Ztar declared looking at Sukja.

Sukja saw energy dancing in Ztar's eyes. The room crackled and popped. Other equipment was beginning to malfunction and spark. The hair on Sukja's body stood on end.

"Ztar, no! Stop! You're going to hurt someone. Is that what Archangel would want?!" Sukja was quickly becoming very frightened. If he couldn't get Ztar to pull back from the buildup, he wasn't sure how this was going to end. They may all die!

"He was not meant to die! This is my fault – all _my_ fault! He should have been safely on Earth. My _fault_, Sukja! I killed him, my beautiful Archangel." Ztar voice cracked and shook from the effort to speak.

He looked down at Archangel and laid a hand on his forehead, still damp from the fever that had gripped him. Ztar remembered how beautiful Archangel was in the construct – the golden glow, the purity of his presence.

"Don't leave me, my love. Please! You do not deserve death. Not this way – not by Drex's hand!" Then Ztar looked up toward the symbolic heavens and his anger exploded. "How can you _allow_ this?! How can you think this right and just?! Tell me! I _demand_ an answer!" he raged, his voice nearly shaking the walls.

But no reply came. Ztar lowered his head, tears streaming down his face. He leaned down over Archangel, drew him up to his chest, cradling his companion's head against his shoulder.

"No, no, no! _Please_!" and he held on, crying violently, rocking back and forth, stroking Archangel's wing and smoothing his hair.

Sukja watched from the doorway as the field expanded no farther, then ever so slightly drew in toward Ztar. He breathed a sigh of relief and waited in the doorway. Through tear-filled eyes, Sukja watched his friend and emperor grapple with the death of his lover, who was so much more than that to Ztar. Sukja's own shock and grief was quickly overwhelming him. _How could this be?!_ Archangel was fine just hours had to be a nightmare! He'd wake soon and all would be as it should, he tried to convince himself.

Ztar continued to hold Archangel's body, crying into the golden hair, stroking and soothing. When Sukja felt it safe to move, he edged nearer to Ztar, careful not to get too close to the field of energy that still shimmered around Ztar and Archangel. Then something changed within energy field. The color? It was hard to pinpoint. Just the tears playing tricks? Sukja blinked to clear his eyes. He turned to Vozeipar'de who was standing behind him.

"I see it, too, Sukja."

The energy around the human took on a distinct golden tone. Sukja had never seen that before – Ztar's field was always colorless, only ripples and shimmers. He and the physician watched in sudden fascination as the color intensified around Archangel's body. Then it was as if the glow was radiating from under Archangel's skin. The energy beyond a few inches of Archangel, however, remained the colorless shimmer.

Ztar noticed something odd and he stopped rocking. He recognized the same golden glow from the construct emanating from Archangel. 'You're seeing things,' he told himself. With the glow, though, came a sensation that he couldn't name – almost a pulling. It didn't frighten him. Somehow it was calm and warm and…something.

Vozeipar'de looked again at Sukja. "Have you ever seen anything like that?" he whispered.

Sukja shook his head. "No. I don't think its coming from Ztar, though. But it doesn't seem to be hurting him."

"Let it play out?"

"For now," Sukja replied.

Ztar felt compelled to maintain his energy field around himself and Archangel. Something definitely pulled at the field, as if tapping into it, drawing from it. At the same time, the glow around Archangel grew more intense.

Sukja watched transfixed as Archangel's body began to glow with rapidly increasing brightness. Then the energy flared so brilliantly and without warning Sukja didn't have time to cover his eyes. Suddenly, the room went white.

Sukja couldn't see anything for a many seconds as his eyes tried to recover from the light blast. Then he realized he was on his knees. Vozeipar'de was next to him on the floor, also waiting to regain his vision. When Sukja could finally make out Ztar, he was smiling.

"Sukja, Archangel is breathing!" he voice was shaking in disbelief.

"_What_?!" Vozeipar'de asked incredulously as he struggled to his feet.

Ztar gently laid Archangel back down on the bed, taking his companion's hand into his. He was trembling and was weak, but he pushed it aside – his condition was meaningless!

With all the medical monitors and other equipment no longer functional, the physician had to rely on old methods to determine the status of his reanimated patient. Heart beat strong and regular. Respiration normal. Pupils reactive. No sign of fever. Color returning to normal.

Vozeipar'de simply looked at Ztar, his eyes filled with wonder. "I have n-no explanation! This..this should not be possible!" the physician stammered, looking down at his patient in amazement. But he needed medical equipment to know more. Was this spontaneous remission? Was Archangel cured? Or was this a cruel joke and Archangel would crash again?

Vozeipar'de yelled for his assistant, who was standing gaping at the scene from the doorway. "Get me the backup monitors from storage – now!"

The assistant flinched and ran toward the back of the infirmary. Sukja followed to help. Soon they were back with monitors and diagnostic equipment. Ztar had ripped away the old equipment in the meantime to make room.

"Is he going to survive? Why is he still unconscious?" Ztar asked, still worried for his companion.

"That's what I'm hoping to find out."

The physician looked up from his patient and checked the readings. Everything was normal, right down to the brainwave activity. Archangel should not be unconscious, yet he was.

"Nothing here tells me why he's still unconscious, Ztar. He should be waking."

"I'm going in, Chenro. Perhaps it's not physical."

Ztar moved into Archangel's mind once again.

The construct was different this time. There was only whiteness and light – no form or anything solid that Ztar could detect. It didn't even feel as though he was walking on a surface. He could barely perceive Archangel's presence, but there was no sign of the human's image. Where was he? Ztar grew fearful.

"Archangel?" he called out verbally and mentally.

No response. He called again. Nothing. He began to walk toward nothing. It was disorienting and he grew more anxious with each step. Ztar was having difficulty holding on to his tenuous connection with Archangel.

"Archangel, please! Answer me!"

Still nothing.

"Archangel, you are healed! Your body is whole again! Please come back to me," Ztar pleaded, sending out emotions of longing and love in hopes of stirring the human wherever he may have gone to in his mind.

Suddenly, a large, white bird landed at Ztar's feet, startling him. The bird eyed him suspiciously. Ztar had seen a similar bird in one of Archangel's memories long ago. A bird of prey from Earth, if he recalled correctly. Large hooked beak, long talons, and powerful body. But the color wasn't right. The white head, yes, but not the white body. Ztar concluded the bird was some part of Archangel coming to check him out.

"Show me where Archangel is," he told the bird and waited. The bird continued to eye him, turning its head one way, then the other. Suddenly, it leaped into the air and flew off into the whiteness.

"Wait!" Ztar called after it, and his heart sank as it disappeared quickly from view.

Then it was nearly on top of him again in the air, sweeping past his head and then heading off into the same direction as it had come from. This time Ztar walked in that direction. Each time Ztar lost sight of the bird, it came back to lead the way again. After what seemed like hours, Ztar finally saw a nearly indistinguishable figure in the whiteness. "Archangel?" He walked faster.

"Why did you bring me back?!" a sudden voice boomed at him, startling Ztar to the point that he nearly fell.

"Archangel?"

"Why?! There was peace and love and light. I was happy!" the voice sounded very angry.

"Archangel, I'm not sure what brought you back. I don't think it was me! I think it was you!" Even as Ztar said the words, he wasn't sure. He had no idea how Archangel had been returned to life. Archangel had glowed with an internal light, but Ztar's energy field was also active. Too many unknowns for any conclusions.

There was no sound for a long time.

"Archangel? Please, talk to me."

"I was at peace, Ztar. You ripped me away. I want to go back."

In those minutes that Archangel was dead, had he gone on to another existence? Heaven or whatever one chose to name it? But if he had, how could it have been Ztar's power that pulled him back? It made no sense.

"Archangel, _you_ chose to come back. I could not take you from there. I do not have the power to do that!"

Silence again for what seemed like an eternity. Ztar felt prickles at the back of his neck and he turned. Archangel was gradations of white from head to toe. He looked at Ztar as if he were a stranger.

"I did not choose to return. You did this!" the ghostly image accused.

Ztar's mind raced. He was in a battle to bring Archangel back from oblivion. The telepath was in uncharted waters and had no real idea of what to do, except continue talking.

"Are you certain of that, Archangel? What kind of power do you believe I have?"

The construct image stared coolly at Ztar saying nothing.

"Even if you say that I healed your body, is that alone enough to bring your soul back? I do not believe anyone has that much power. Do you?" Ztar inquired of Archangel's mind.

Archangel turned slightly away, his white eyes looking out to nowhere. Thinking perhaps? Evaluating?

"You and you alone decided return to this realm, Archangel. For some reason you decided to come back. If that is your decision, you've made it only half way. Your body lies healed in the infirmary, but your mind is still deeply hidden here. You must make another decision. Either return fully or be caught in this limbo."

Archangel turned to look Ztar in the eyes. 'I was happy. Why would I return?'

"Only you can answer that, my Archangel."

The image disappeared suddenly, and Ztar gasped. All he could do was wait or leave Archangel's mind. He chose to stay and wait.

In the infirmary, over an hour had passed since Ztar delved into Archangel's mind. Vozeipar'de was ready to activate the psychic dampeners again.

"Just a little longer," Sukja said. He knew enough of Ztar's abilities to know that time measures differently inside the world of the deep mind.

The scene around Ztar began to fill with swirling colors, nearly causing him to lose his balance to vertigo. He closed his eyes for a few seconds. When he reopened them, they were back on the mountain plateau. Archangel stood several feet away from him, no longer a white image, but as he would be in the physical world.

"I have decided you are correct. It is the only explanation," the image said without emotion.

"Then come all the way back, Archangel. Come with me!" Ztar encouraged, but Archangel hesitated. Why?

The brainwave readings picked up more activity. Archangel was no longer comatose, but he was not yet conscious. "There is hope!" Vozeipar'de announced to Sukja and his assistant.

"Archangel, take my hand," Ztar reached out to the human. Still Archangel hesitated.

"Please, my beloved. You've come this far, just a little further."

Ztar saw Archangel's eyes look to his outstretched hand, but not take it. Was his life with Ztar so unwanted on a deep level that oblivion was more tempting? Ztar's heart hurt with that question.

"Archangel, I'm strong enough now. You've help me with that. If you return to me, you can leave me if you chose. I will survive it. I won't be happy, but I will survive. Please, just come with me!"

Archangel looked up into Ztar's eyes. The look felt penetrating, as if Archangel were looking into Ztar's very soul. Then Archangel's hand moved toward Ztar's and he felt an energy jump between them as their fingers touched.

Ztar was abruptly back in the infirmary, still sitting on the bed next to Archangel's. The suddenness of the transition left him dizzy. He felt hands on his arm steadying him.

"You're back, Ztar!" Sukja said with huge relief.

"Archangel?" and he looked at the human's face, just as the eye lids began to flutter open. "My Archangel. Thank the gods!" Ztar said with an intensity of joy and gratitude he didn't know he could feel.

"Ztar?" Archangel's voice was very soft.

Vozeipar'de shook his head in disbelief. "I will never live to see anything like this again! We have witnessed a miracle," he said in awe.

"My beloved, you are safe and well," Ztar's heart overflowed with love. He lied in the construct – he could never live without Archangel!

"What happened?" Warren asked. The world around him was coming into focus. He was obviously in the infirmary, but no idea why.

Vozeipar'de stepped in before Ztar could answer. "I need to tend to our patient, Emperor. If you and Sukja could wait outside, let me make certain Archangel is stable."

Sukja took Ztar's arm and guided him to the waiting area.

Warren watched them leave and then turned to the physician.

"What happened?"

"To be truthful, Archangel, I haven't even a guess as to what just happened. First, let me take care of a few more scans, then we can talk," The physician answered still feeling the wonder of what he had witnessed.

###

When Ztar and Sukja were allowed back in to see Archangel, the bed was raised so he was sitting up. For someone that had died just an hour ago, Archangel looked amazingly good. The human smiled as the two men approached his bed. Ztar quickly embraced Archangel and tears sprang up once again, but they were tears of joy.

"By the gods, Archangel! The fear you put us through – I don't know how much more I can take." Ztar exclaimed, still amazed at what had happened.

To Warren, Ztar looked terrible – drawn and drained. At the same time, he looked greatly relieved and happy.

"You look good, Archangel!" Sukja remarked. Actually, it was incredible how healthy the human looked.

"I wish I could say the same for our Emperor," Warren observed. Then turning back to Ztar, "You look awful!"

"Looking to brighten my mood?" Ztar managed some humor.

Vozeipar'de stepped up to the bed. "I might be able to shed some light on that, with Archangel's permission."

Warren nodded. Vozeipar'de had shared his findings with Warren before letting Ztar and Sukja into the room. The physician had developed what seemed a plausible hypothesis about what had transpired.

"I have a theory as to what likely happened here." Vozeipar'de turned on a viewscreen. "This is a sample of Archangel's blood, greatly magnified of course. See these tiny dark specs throughout the sample? Those are nannites. Extremely advanced nannites – I've seen nothing quite like what these have apparently done. The virus has been eradicated." The physician sounded excited.

"So Archangel is cured of the virus?" Sukja wanted to verify.

"I far as my scanners can tell, nothing remains of the Wynnar-Qxani virus. I believe the nannites are responsible for that."

"How did the nannites get in Archangel?" Ztar wanted to know.

Warren answered. "From Apocalypse. You know who he is, Ztar, from my memories."

"The deranged mutant who turned you into the steel-winged Archangel?"

"The one and only. He used nannites for the transformation."

"I'm not following," Sukja informed.

"It's a long story, Sukja, which I'll share with you another time. Just know that I was injected with alien nannites several years ago and they've been in my system lying dormant ever since they accomplished their original programming."

"Lying so dormant apparently, that even the Wynnar-Qxani virus did not awaken them. But I believe two things came together to trigger the nannites – Archangel's death and Ztar's energy field. Once the nannites were back on-line so to speak, they went into overdrive, likely recognizing the desperate situation of their host. Ztar, I believe they drew the energy needed to heal Archangel from you. That's why you were shaky and weak. You should be fine by morning, assuming you get some rest."

"What about the glow from Archangel?" Sukja asked. "That wasn't Ztar's energy."

"I really don't have a good theory. Is it possible that you have an energy source within you, something the nannites could summon?" the physician asked Archangel.

"I'm uncertain on that, doctor. Sometimes I don't think I've yet discovered everything that Apocalypse did to me, or the extent of my own mutations," Warren admitted.

"Then we can't be certain whether it was the nannites or the other energy that cured him," Sukja concluded.

"If not for some residual energy readings that seems only attributable to the nannites, I'd agree with you," the physician answered. "It appears they were activated."

Ztar thought for a moment; then a frightening thought hit him.

"But if the nannites transformed Archangel once before, won't they again now that they're active?"

"My scans say they've returned to the dormant state. Why, I don't know. Their programming most likely."

"This is worrisome," Ztar said with a frown. "What if they reactivate? And why didn't they transform Archangel this time?"

Warren touched Ztar's arm. "I've had these things in me for several years now, Ztar. This is the first time they've possibly reactivated, and I've been through a lot since Apocalypse that could have triggered them, but nothing. Let's just believe that it was a one-time combination of my death and your energy available for them to tap into. I choose to believe that they were programmed for one transformation only. Besides, this time they likely saved my life."

Ztar wasn't convinced. "Can we remove them? This still worries me," looking at his physician.

"And me," Sukja injected.

"Right now, I'm not aware of any technology to remove them completely. Warren tells me that even the Shi'ar could not cleanse him of the nannites."

"They tried, Ztar, but no go. I had to quit worrying about it a long time ago or I'd live my whole life in fear of what might happen. You can't live like that for long without consequences."

Ztar looked at Archangel and once again he was humbled by the human's inner strength. Everything Archangel had been through, all the wrongs done to him, the challenges life had thrown in his way, the injustices and pain he had endured, and he was still kind, and self-sacrificing, and noble – not to mention sane! Ztar felt yet again he was not worthy of the gift of Archangel's commitment to him. Tears came unbidden.

"My Emperor, is something wrong?" Sukja asked concerned over the new tears.

Ztar shook his head. "Just relief," Ztar said in half-truth.

"When can Archangel be released?" Sukja asked of the physician.

"I'd like to keep him here until tomorrow to rest and monitor. Ztar, I think you need to get some rest yourself. It's been a difficult evening to say the least!"

"I'll see to it," Sukja assured.

"Very well," Ztar was too tired to put up a fight. "Good night, my Archangel. I love you," Ztar embraced his companion and then followed Sukja obediently out of the infirmary.

As soon as the door slid shut behind Sukja and Ztar, Warren turned to Vozeipar'de.

"You've probably already thought about this, Vozeipar'de, but you should check Ztar for nannites."

The physician nodded. "You're right, the thought had already crossed my mind. Have you transmitted nannites to anyone in the past?"

Warren shook his head. "It was a concern at first, but since then I've gone so far as to give blood to save lives without any problems. The nannites are programmed so specifically to me that they cease to function and self-destruct pretty quickly once outside my body. But Ztar's energy field was something the nannites recognized and perhaps used. He should be checked."

"I agree," Vozeipar'de said with a frown. "I'll talk with him later. For now, you should sleep and let me doing any worrying about Ztar."

###

**Finale**

In the weeks following Warren's brush with death, Ztar spoiled him with gifts and surprises and special dinners and trips to the countryside and anything else the Emperor could think of to delight him. Ztar went so far as to have a fireplace added to their chambers, remembering how much Warren loved the fireplace in the mountain chalet. The work caused so much disruption they had to spend a few nights in Warren's chambers until the workers were done. The understated fireplace was located a few feet from the foot of the bed with its hearth at bed level. Now lying in Ztar's arms, Warren watched the flames flicker and dance. It was the first night back in their chambers after the installation.

"It's great, Ztar. Thank you." He did appreciate the gesture, along with all the others over the past three weeks. Ztar was acting like a madly in love school boy, bringing all sorts of gifts to prove his devotion. As Warren thought about it, it was almost as if Ztar was attempting to go back in time to recreate how things should have been between them. To scrap how it had played out the first time and make things right. Or perhaps, even, to redo his love life starting many years ago and rewrite the memories from the companions before Warren where things had gone so wrong.

Ztar pulled him closer and hugged Archangel tightly. "I was thinking we could go back to the mountains again."

"But you're up to your eyeballs in the transition. You shouldn't go on vacation right now," Warren reasoned.

"That excuse didn't work last time and it won't this time. Nothing will happen that I can't deal with from there. Worse case, we return early. What matters right now is you."

What happened when he died, Warren pondered. He remembered nothing from just before collapsing in his chambers to waking up after his near-death. Ztar had hinted of things, like a mental connection he had with Warren as he died and that things were said, but Ztar wouldn't elaborate. 'Another time when I am strong enough,' he said when Warren pressed. As much as Warren was curious, he didn't force the issue. It would keep until Ztar was ready.

In the meantime, things were left undone that should be attended to. He and Ztar had yet to read the Accord together to find any hidden motives or entanglements. Somehow it was always at the bottom of the to-do list. It had seemed to matter less and less why the legal counselors didn't suggest what Warren and Ztar had concluded. Perhaps now, though, it was time to take the time to read it. Maybe while they were at the mountain chalet.

Warren also felt an increasing need to connect with friends, old and new. He owed Xavier a reply to his last message from shortly after the coffee trade was worked out. And he wanted to visit Atichi more and stop by to see Niat and Splythe. Then there was Sukja. After what they'd been through together, he felt connected with the Ozjaerian, yet since he and Ztar spent so much time together, Sukja seemed to have been dropped from the equation. Warren decided he needed to touch base with Sukja more often socially.

Another to do was getting Ztar to submit to testing for the nannites. Thus far, his physician was unable to convince Ztar of the need. "I'd rather not know. What difference would it make? They cannot be removed," the Emperor had said firmly. Yet Warren and Vozeipar'de felt they did need to know if the nannites had transferred and survived within the Turzent.

Thoughts about the nannites raised a mystery he'd like to explore – what was the glow and light burst he was told about that occurred when he was coming back from death? Was it really Ztar's energy, the nannites, or something within Warren himself, as his doctor suspected? Warren felt he may want to pursue some answers if they could be found, perhaps with Vozeipar'de's help.

Then there was the biggest to do of all – Ztar's emotional health. It certainly appeared the Turzent was making major progress, yet he still seemed so vulnerable where Warren was concerned. What would have happened to Ztar had Warren actually died? Just the fact that Warren wasn't sure Ztar could have come out of that intact, meant his work wasn't done yet. When the day came that Warren could say Ztar would survive his leaving or death, would journey through the grieving process and come out mostly whole on the other end, then he would leave. How long would that take? A few more months, a year? Warren hoped not much more than that, but no way to predict. Until then, he'd continue the commitment he'd made and put his life on hold for the sake of the Empire and its Emperor.

'Yep, much left undone.' Perhaps that is what brought him back from death.

Archangel had been quietly watching the flames for sometime. Ztar gazed into the human's face and knew the look – his beloved companion was contemplating. About what, he didn't know and wouldn't intrude telepathically.

Ztar had much to contemplate himself. How his role was changing within the Empire he had built and what that would mean over the coming months and years. The possibility that the Etagllot had re-emerged with potential connections to not only the Commonwealth, but the nearby Par-Sen territory. Vozeipar'de's continuing insistence that he be checked for nannites, an unsettling thought to say the least. He just wasn't ready to know should he indeed be infected. In addition to those concerns, there was what seemed a mountain of other issues and details he faced as routine.

There was one much more pleasant matter – his and Archangel's deepening relationship. That he would gladly contemplate for hours. Not a day went by that he didn't marvel at how things had turned out. 'I'm the luckiest Turzent alive,' he summed up. That thought brought a smile to his face and he looked at Archangel who was still focused on the dancing fire.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked warmly.

Archangel turned his magnificent blue eyes to Ztar and smiled. "My to-do list."

Ztar chuckled in amusement. "Perhaps you should stop thinking about work and relax. I have just the pastime for us to enjoy," Ztar said with a mischievous grin and twinkling eyes. 'What would I have ever done had I lost you?' he wondered to himself.

"You have a one track mind, Emperor," his Archangel scolded, but with a smile.

"About you, my most treasured, I freely admit it!" He leaned down for one of Archangel's intoxicating kisses, and Ztar was in heaven once again with this Archangel.

-- finis --

__

That is it – the end of our story. I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I enjoyed the writing of it. 

_A special note of thanks to my two faithful reviewers – without you, it would have been a very lonely ride indeed. Such heart-felt and insightful reviews you gave! Focus SJS and Louisestarfly, you are the best!_

_And to all the other readers who made Warren and Ztar's story one of their favorites, thank you! A vote of confidence like that brightens my day. And to the rest of you who (hopefully) enjoyed the story with anonymity, thank you for spending time sharing in my imaginings. _

_With sincere appreciation,_

_Echo Dancer_

"_When you write from the soul, the pen moves itself."_


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